Lives. Englished by Sir Thomas North in ten volumes

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THE TUDOR
TRANSLATIONS

EDITED BY

W. E. HENLEY
VII

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LUTARCH'S

LIVESOF THE NOBLE

GRECIANS AND ROMANS

ENGLISHED B Y

SIR THOMAS NORTH

ANNO 1579

With an Introduction by

GEORGE WYNDHAM

FIRST VOLUME

LONDON

Published by DAVID NUTT
IN THE STRAND

1895

DE
Pf6

M

Edinburgh : T. and A. Constable, Printers to Her Majesty

TO

THE RIGHT HONOURABLE
ARTHUR JAMES BALFOUR

THIS TRANSFIGURATION

IN UNFADING ENGLISH OF

AN IMMORTAL BOOK

INTRODUCTION

LUTARCH was bora at the little Theban
town of Chasronea, somewhere about 50
A.D. The date of his birth marks no
epoch in history ; and the place of it,
even then, was remembered only as the
field of three bygone battles. The name
Chaeronea, cropping up in conversation at
Rome, for the birthplace of a distinguished
Greek lecturer, must have sounded strangely familiar in the
eai-s of the educated Romans whom he taught, even as the name
of Dreux, or of Tewkesbury, sounds strangely familiar in our
own. But apart from such chance encounters, few can have
been aware of its municipal existence ; and this same contrast,
between the importance and the renown of Plutarch's birth-
place, held in the caise of his country also. The Boeotian
plain — once ' the scaffold of Mars where he held his games "" ^
— was but a lonely sheepwalk ; even as all Greece, once a
Europe of several States, was but one, and perhaps the poorest,
among the many provinces of the Empire. Born at such a
time and in such a place, Plutarch was still a patriot, a student
of politics, and a scholar, and was therefore bound by every
tie of sentiment and learning to the ancient memories of
his native land. Sometimes he brooded over her altered
fortunes. Boeotia ' heretofore of old time resounded and
' rung again with Oracles ' ; but now all the land that from

^'Apews opxn'^'rpav. (Marcellus, 21.) This contrast has been noted by
R. C. Trench, D.D., in his Plutarch. Five Lectures, 1874. An admirable
volume full of suggestion.

vii

Plutarch and

Plutarch's

Greece

His Athens
and his
Corinth

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

INTRO- sea to sea had echoed the clash of arms and the cadence
DUCTION of oratory was 'mute or altogether desolate and forlorn':
. . . 'hardly able*" he goes on, ' to make three thousand
' men for the wars, which are now no more in number
' than one city in times past, to wit : Megara, set forth
' and sent to the battle of Plataea.' ^ At Athens, though
Sulla had long since cut down the woods of the Academy,
there were still philosophers ; and there were merchants
again at Corinth, rebuilded by Julius Caesar. But Athens,
even, and a century before, could furnish only three ships
for the succour of Pompey ; while elsewhere, the cities
of Greece had dwindled to villages, and the villages had
vanished, 'The stately and sumptuous buildings which
' Pericles made to be built in the cittie of Athens "* were still
standing after four hundred years, untouched by Time,
but they were the sole remaining evidence of dignity. So
that Plutarch, when he set himself to write of Greek
worthies, found his material selected to his hand. Greek
rhetoricians, himself among them, might lecture in every
city of the South ; but of Greek soldiers and statesmen
there was not one in a land left empty and silent, save
for the statues of gods and the renown of great men. The
cradle of war and statecraft was become a memory dear to
him, and ever evoked by his personal contact with the
triumphs of Rome. From this contrast flowed his inspiration
for the Parallel Lives : his desire, as a man, to draw the
noble Grecians, long since dead, a little nearer to the noonday
of the living ; his delight, as an artist, in setting the noble
Romans, whose names were in every mouth, a little further
into the twilight of a more ancient romance. By placing
them side by side, he gave back to the Greeks that touch
which they had lost with the living in the death of Greece,
and to the Romans that distinction from everyday life
which they were fast beginning to lose. Then and ever
since, an imaginative effort was needed to restore to Greece
those trivialities of daily life which, in other countries,
an imaginative effort is needed to destroy ; and hence her

' PlutarcKs Morals. Philemon Holland, 1657, p. 1078, in a letter addressed
to Terentius Priscus, ' On oracles that have ceased to give answers.'

viii

His Inspira
tion

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

hold on the imagination of every age. Plutarch, considering INTRO-
his country, found her a solitude. Yet for him the desert DUCTION
air was vibrant with a rumour of the mighty dead. Their
memories loomed heroic and tremendous, through the dim-
ness of the past ; and he carried them with him when he
went to Rome, partly on a political errand, and partly to
deliver Greek lectures.

In JuvenaPs ' Greek city "* he needed, and indeed he had, in Flavian
small Latin. ' I had no leisure to study and exercise the Rome
' Latin tongue, as well for the great business I had then to
' do, as also to satisfy them that came to learn philosophy of
' me ' : thus, looking back from Chaeronea, does he Avi'ite in
his preface to the Demosthenes and Cicero, adding that he
' understood not matters so much by words, as he came to
' understand words by common experience and knowledge he
' had in things." We gather that he wrote many, if not all,
of the Lives at his birthplace, the 'poor little town"" to
which he returned : ' remaining there willingly lest it should
' become less.'' But it was in Flavian Rome, in the ' great
' and famous city thoroughly inhabited' and containing ' plenty
' of all sorts of books,' that, having taken upon him to write
' a history into which he must thrust many strange things
' unknown to his country,' he gathered his materials ' out of
' divers books and authorities,' or picked them up, as a part
of ' common experience and knowledge,' in familiar converse
with the cultured of his day. I have quoted thus, for the light
the passage throws on the nature of his researches in Rome,
although the word ' history ' may mislead. For his purpose His Purpose
was not to write histories, even of individuals. He tells us
so himself. ' I will only desire the reader,' he writes in his
preface to the Alexander and Caesar, 'not to blame me
' though I do not declare all things at large , . . for they
' must remember that my intent is not to write histories but
' only lives. For the noblest deeds,' he goes on, ' do not
' always shew man's virtues and vices, but oftentimes a light
' occasion, a word, or some sport makes men's natural dispo-
' sitions and manners appear more plainly than the famous
' battles won, wherein are slain ten thousand men.' As
' painters do take the resemblance of the face and favour
b ix

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

INTRO- ' of the countenance,'' making ' no accompt of other parts of
DUCTION « the body,' so he, too, asks for ' leave to seek out the signs
' and tokens of the mind only/ That was his ambition : to
paint a gallery of portraits ; to focus his vision on the
spiritual face of his every subject, and for every Greek to
hang a Roman at his side. To compass it, he set himself
deliberately, as an artist, unconscious of any intention other
than the choice of good subjects and, his choice once
made, the rejection from each of all but the particular and
the significant. He stood before men's souls to study ' the
' singularity each possessed,'^ as Velasquez in a later age
before men's bodies ; and, even as his method was allied,
so was his measure of accomplishment not less.
His Effect But the Parallel Lives shows something different from this

purpose, is something more than a gallery of portraits hung
in pairs. Plutarch stands by his profession. His imme-
diate concern is with neither history nor politics, but ^vith
the ' disposition and manners ' of the great. He chooses his
man, and then he paints his picture, with a master's choice
of the essential. And yet, inasmuch as he chooses every
subject as a matter of course on political grounds — as he
sees all men in the State — it follows that his gallery is found,
for all his avowed intention, to consist of political portraits
alone. Thirteen, indeed, of his sitters belong not only to
history but also to one chapter of history — a chapter short,
dramatic, bloody, and distinctly political. This was the
chance. When Plutarch, the lecturer, dropped into Roman
society fresh from the contemplation of Greece ' depopulate
' and dispeopled,' he found its members spending their ample
Some of his leisure in academic debate. After more than a hundred
Sources years they were still discussing the protagonists in that

greatest of political dramas which, 'for a sumptuous
' conclusion to a stately tragedy,' had ushered in the
empire of the world. Predisposed by contrast of origin
and affinity of taste, he threw himself keenly into
their pastime, and he gives, by the way, some minute
references to points at issue. For instance, when Pompey
and the Senate had deserted Italy at Caesar's approach, a
^ Paulus yEini litis.

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

stern-chase of ships and swords had swept round three conti- INTRO-
nents, and thereon had followed a campaign of words and DUCTION
pens at Rome. In that campaign the chief attack and
reply had been Cicero's Cato and Caesar's Anticaton;
and these, he tells us,^ had 'favourers unto his day,
' some defending the one for the love they bare Caesar,
' and others allowing the other for Cato's sake/ We gather
that he and his Roman friends argued of these matters over
the dinner-table and in the lecture-halls, even as men argue
to-day of the actors in the French Revolution. Now, to
glance at the ' Table of the Noble Grecians and Romanes ' His Roman
is to see how profoundly this atmosphere affected his selec- Lives
tion of Roman lives. For, excluding the legendary founders
and defenders, with the Emperors Galba and Otho (whose
lives are interpolations from elsewhere), we find that thirteen
of the nineteen left were party chiefs in the constitutional
struggles which ended on the fields of Pharsalia and Philippi,
The effect on the general cast of the Lives has been so
momentous that a whole quarter covers only the political
action which these thirteen politicians crowded into less
than one hundred years. The society of idlers, which re-
ceived Plutarch at Rome, was still debating the ideals for
which these thirteen men had fought and died ; it was there-
fore inevitable that, in seeking for foreign parallels, he should
have found almost as many as he needed among the actors
in that single drama. As it was, he chose for his greater
portraitures all the chief actors, and a whole army of sub-
sidiary characters for his groups in the middle distance :
as Saturninus and Cinna from one act, Clodius and Curio
from another. Nothing is wanting. You have the prologue
of the Gracchi, the epilogue of Antony, and between the
play from the triumph of Marius to Brutus in his despair :
' looking up to the firmament that was full of stars,' and
' sighing ' over a cause lost for ever. And yet it remains
true that Plutarch did not make this selection from — or
rather this clean sweep of — the politicians of a certain epoch
in order to illustrate that epoch's history, still less to criticise
any theory of constitutional government. The remaining

^ Casar.

xi

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

INTRO- Romans, howbeit engaged in several issues, and the Greeks,
DUCTION though gathered from many ages and many cities, are
all politicians, or, being orators and captains, are still in
the same way chosen each for his influence on the for-
tmies of a State. But they were not consciously chosen
to illustrate history or to discuss politics. Thanks,
not to a point of view peculiar to Plutarch but to an
instinct pervading the world in which he lived, to a pre-
possession then so universal that he is never conscious of
its influence on his aim, they are all public men. For him-
His Principle self, he was painting individual character ; and he sought
of Selection it among men bearing a personal stamp. But he never
sought it in a private person or a comedian ; nor even
in a poet or a master of the Fine Arts. To look for
distinction in such a quarter never occurred to him ;
could never, I may say, have entered his head. He
cannot conceive that any young ' gentleman nobly born ""
should so much as wish to be Phidias or Polycletus or
Anacreon ; ^ and this fi'om no vulgar contempt for the
making of beautiful things, nor any mean reverence for
noble birth, but because, over and above the making of
beautiful things, there are deeds that are better worth the
doing, and because men of noble birth are freer than others
to choose what deeds they will set themselves to do. Why,
then, he seems to ask, should they seek any service less noble
than the service of their countrymen .? why pursue any
ambition less exalted than the salvation of their State .?
For his part, he will prefer Lycurgus before Plato ; for,
while the one ' stablished and left behind him ' a constitu-
tion, the other left behind him only ' words and written
' books.' ^ His preference seems a strange one now ; but
it deserves to be noted the more nearly for its strangeness.
At any rate, it was the preference of a patriot and a repub-
lican, whose country had sunk to a simple province under
an alien Emperor, and it governed the whole range of
Plutarch's choice.

This result has been rendered the more conspicuous by
another cause, springing at first from an accident, but in
^ Preface to Pericles. ^ Lycurgus,

xii

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

its application influenced by the political quality of Plutarch"'s INTRO-
material. Lost sight of and scattered in the Dark Ages, the DUCTION
Parallel Lives were recovered and rearranged at the revival
of learning. But just as a gallery of historical portraits,
being dispersed and re-collected, will in all probability be
hung after some chronological scheme, so have the lives been
shuffled anew under the influence of their political extrac- The New
tion, in such a sort as to change not only the complexion Symmetry of
but also the structure of Plutarch's design. They form ^gg^J.^^f'^^g
no longer a gallery of political portraits, hung in pairs for arrangement'
contrast's sake : they are grouped with intelligible reference
to the history of Athens and of Rome. We know from
Plutarch's own statements that he had no hand in their
present arrangement. He was engrossed in depicting the
characters of great men, and he wrote and dedicated each
pair of lives to Socius Senecio, or another, as an mdepen-
dent ' book,' ' treaty,' or ' volume.' It is clear from many
passages that he gathered these ' volumes ' together without
reference to their political bearing on each other. The
Pericles and Fahius Maximus, which is now the Fifth
' book,' was originally the Tenth ; and the change has
apparently been made to bring Pericles, so far as the
Greeks are concerned, within the consecutive history of
Athens : just as the Demosthenes and Cicero^ once the Fifth,
is now by much removed so that Cicero may fall into
place among the actors of the Roman drama. So, too,
the Theseus, now standing First, as the founder of Athens,
was written after the Demosthenes, now set well-nigh at the
end of the series. And on the same grounds, evidently,
to the Marius and the Pompey, written respectively after
the Ccesar and the Brutus, there have been given such
positions as were dictated by the development of the drama.
The fact is, Plutarch's materials, being all political, have
settled of themselves, and have been sorted in accordance
with their political nature : until his work, pieced to-
gether by humanists and rearranged by translators, bears
within it some such traces of a new symmetry, imperfect yet
complex, as we detect in the stratification of crystalline
rocks. Little has been added in North's first edition to

xiii

LIVES OF THE NOBI,E

INTRO- the substance of Plutarch's book ; ^ but its structure and,
DUCTION as I hope to show, some of its colour and surface are the
product, not only of the one mind which created it but,
of the many who have preserved it, and of the ages it has
outworn. The mere changes in the order of the ' books '
have neither increased nor diminished their contents ; but by
evolving, as they do, a more or less symmetrical juxtaposi-
tion of certain elements, they have discovered the extent to
which the work is permeated by those elements. As the
quartz dispersed through a rock strikes the eye, when it
is crystallised, from the angles of its spar ; so the amount
The Parallel of Plutarch's political teaching, which might have escaped
Lives a Book notice when it was scattered through independent books, now
of Gr^eece and ^^^^^^ °"^ f^°™ ^^^ grouping together of the Athenians who
Rome made and unmade Athens, and of the Romans who fought for

and against the Republican Constitution of Rome. For the
Parallel Lives are now disposed in a rough chronological
order ; in so far, at least, as this has been possible where the
members of each pair belong severally to nations whose his-
tories mingle for the first time, when the activity of the one
ceases and the activity of the other begins. In earlier days
they had but dim intimations of each other's fortunes : as
when, in the Camillus^ ' the rumour ran to Greece incon-
' tinently that Rome was taken ' ; and it is only in the
Philopoemen and Flaminius that their fates are trained into a
single channel. So that, rather, there are balance and oppo-
sition between the two halves of the whole : the latter por-
tion being governed by the grouping in dramatic sequence
of the thirteen Romans who took part in the constitutional
drama of Rome ; whereas the earlier is as it were polarised
about the history of Athens. Considering the governing
lives in each case, and disregarding their accidental com-
panions, you will find that in both the whole pageant is
displayed. There are excursions, but in the latter half we
live at Rome ; in the earlier we are taken to Athens : there

1 In North's edition of 1579 all is Plutarch, through Amyot, excepting
the Annibal and the Scipio African, which were manufactured by Donate
Acciaiuoli for the Latin translation of the Lives published at Rome by
Campani in 1470.
xiv

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

to be spectators of her rise, her glory, and her fall. We INTRO-
listen to the prologue in the Solon ; and in the Themistocles^ DUCTION
the Pericles, the Alcibiades, we contemplate the three acts of
the tragedy. The tragedy of Athens, the drama of Home :
these are the historic poles of the Parallel Lives ; while,
about half-way between, in the book of Philopoemen and
Flaminius, is the historic hinge, at the fusion of Greek with
Roman story. For Philopoemen and Flaminius were con-
temporaries : the one a Greek whom ' Greece did love pass-
* ingly well as the last valiant man she brought forth in her
' age '' ; the other, a Roman whom she loved also, Plutarch
tells us, because, in founding the suzerainty of Rome, he
founded it on the broad stone of honour. In this book the
balance of sustained interest shifts, and after it the Lives
are governed to the end by the development of the single
Roman drama. We may say to the end : since Plutarch
may truly be said to end with the suicide of Brutus. The
Aratus, though of vivid and, with the Sylla, of unique
interest — for both are based on autobiographies ^ — belongs,
it is thought, to another book.^ This, I have already said. Additions and
is true of the Galba and the OtJio, dissevered as they are Omissions
by the obvious division of a continuous nan'ative ; and of
the Artaxeroces, which, of course, has nothing to do among
the Greek and Roman lives ; while the Hannibal and Scipio
(major), included by North, is not even Plutarch. These
lives, then, were added, no doubt, to complete the defect of
those that had been lost ; as, for instance, the Metellus pro-
mised by Plutarch in his Marius, and the book of Eparni-
nondas and Scipio (minor), which we know him to have
written, on the authority of his son.

If, then, ignoring these accretions, we study the physio-
gnomy of the Parallel Lives as revealed in the ' Table,'' the
national tragedy of Athens and the constitutional drama of
Rome are seen to stand out in consecutive presentment from
its earlier and latter portions. Each is at once apparent,
because each has been reconstituted for us. But the fact

^ Freeman, Methods of Historic Study, p. 1 68. Mahaffy, Greek Life atid
Thought.
^ A. H. Clough, Plutarch's Lives. 1883.

XV

INTRO-
DUCTION

The Person-
ality and
Significance
of the Lives
essentially
Political

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

that such reconstitution has been possible — proving, as it
does, how complete was the unsuspected influence of Plu-
tarch's political temperament over his conscious selection of
great men — puts us in the way of tracing this influence over
his every preference. It gives a key to one great chamber in
his mind, and a clue which we can follow through the windings
of his book. It makes plain the fact that every one of his
heroes achieved, or attempted, one of four political services
which a man may render to his fellows. Their life-work con-
sisted (1) in founding States ; (2) in defending them from
foreign invasion ; (3) in extending their dominion ; or (4) in
leading political parties within their confines. All are, there-
fore, men who made history, considered each one in relation
to his State. In dealing, for instance, with Demosthenes and
Cicero, Plutarch ' will not confer their works and writings
' of eloquence,' but ' their acts and deeds in the government
' of the commonwealth.'' In this manner, also, does he deal
even with his 'founders,' who can scarce be called men,
being but figures of legend and dream. Yet they too
were evolved under the spell of political prepossession in
the nations which conceived their legends ; and the floating,
shifting appearances, the ' mist and hum ' of them, are com-
pacted by a writer in whom that prepossession was strongly
present. That such airy creatures should figure at all as
historical statesmen, having something of natural movement
and bulk, in itself attests beyond all else to this habit of
Plutarch's mind. Having ' set forth the lives of Lycurgus

* (which established the law of the Lacedemonians), and of

* King Numa Pompilius,' he thought he ' might go a little
' further to the life of Romulus,' and ' resolved to match him
' which did set up the noble and famous city of Athens, with

* him which founded the glorious and invincible city of Rome.'
He is dealing, as he says, with matter ' full of suspicion and
' doubt, being delivered us by poets and tragedy makers,

* sometimes without truth and likelihood, and always with-
' out certainty.' He is dealing, indeed, with shadoAvs ; but
they are shadows projected backward upon the mists about
their origin by two nations which were above all things
political ; and he lends them a further semblance of con-

xvi

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

sistency and perspective, by regarding them from a political INTRO-
point of view in the light of a later political experience. His DUCTION
Theseus and his Romuhis are, indeed, a tissue woven out of
folk-lore and the faint memories of a savage prime : you The Folk-lore
shall find in them traces of forgotten customs ; marriage by of Politics
capture,^ for instance, and much else that is frankly beyond
belief; things which, he says, ' peradventure will please the
' reader better for their strangeness and curiosity, than offend
' or mislike him for their falsehood.'' But his Lycurgus^
saving the political glosses, and his PompiUus, are likewise all
of legend and romance : of the days ' when the Aventine was
' not inhabited, nor inclosed within the walls of Rome, but
' was full of springs and shadowed groves,"* the haunt of
Picus and Faunus, and of ' Lady Silence "* ; yet he contrives
to cast a political reflection over even this noiseless dream-
land of folk-lore. Lycurgus and Theseus, in the manner of
their deaths, present vague images of the fate which in truth
befell the most of their historic prototypes. Lycurgus kills Some Heroes
himself, not because his constitution for Sparta is in danger of Legend
but, lest any should seek to change it; and the bones of
Theseus, the Athenian, murdered by his ungrateful country-
men, are magically discovered, and are brought back to
Athens ' with great joye, with processions and goodly sacri-
' fices, as if Theseus himself had been alive, and had returned
' into the city again."" As we read, we seem to be dreaming
of Gator's death at Utica ; and of Alcibiades"' return, when
the people who had banished him to the ruin of their country
' clustred all to him only and , . . put garlands of flowers
' upon his head.'

The relation of the Lives in the three other categories
to the political temper of Plutarch and his age is more
obvious, if less significant of that temper and its prevalence
in every region of thought. Of the Romans, Publicola and and Romance
Coriolanus belong also to romance. But both were captains
in the first legendary wars waged by Rome for supremacy in
Italy ; and the lives of both are charged with the hues of
party politics. Publicola is painted as the aristocrat who,

* The marriage of Pirithous, p. 62, and the ravishment of the Sabines,

c xvii

INTRO-
DUCTION

Historic

Rome

and Historic

Greece

Contrasted

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

by patient loyalty to the Constitution, lives down the suspi-
cions of the populace ; Coriolanus, as a type of caste at once
noble for its courage and lamentable for its indomitable pride.
Passing, after these four, out of fable into history, there
remain six Romans besides the thirteen involved in the cul-
minating drama. Three of these, Furius Camillus, Marcellus,
and Quintus Fabius Maximus, were the heroes of Rome's
successful resistance to foreign invasion, and two, T. Q.
Flaminius and Paulus ^milius, the heroes of her equally
successful foreign and colonial policy ; while one only, Marcus
Cato, is chosen as a constitutional politician from the few
untroubled years between the assurance of empire abroad
and the constitutional collapse at home. Turning from
Italy to Greece, we find, again, that after the two legendary
founders and Solon, the more or less historical contriver
of the Athenian constitution, the remainder Greeks without
exception fall under one or more of the three other cate-
gories : they beat back invasion, or they sought to extend
a suzerainty, or they led political parties in pursuit of
political ideals. Swayed by his political temperament,
Plutarch exhibits men of a like stamp engaged in like issues.
But, in passing from his public men of Italy to his public
men of Greece, we may note that, while the issues which
call forth the political energies of the two nations are the
same, a difference merely in the order of event Avorks up the
same characters and the same situations into another play
with another and a more complicated plot. Rome had practi-
cally secured the headship of the Italian States some years
before the First Punic War. Her suzerainty was, therefore,
an accomplished fact, frequently challenged but never de-
feated, before the Italian races were called upon to face any
foe capable of absorbing their country. But in Greece,
neither before nor after the Persian invasion did any one
State ever become permanently supreme. So that, whereas,
in Italy, the issue of internal wars and jealousies was decided
long before the danger of foreign domination had to be met ;
in Greece, overshadowed in turn by the Persian, the Mace-
donian, and the Roman, that issue was never decided at
all. It follows that the history of Italy is the history of
xviii

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

Rome, and not of the Latins or of the Samnites; but that INTRO-
the history of Greece is, at first, the history of Athens, of DUCTION
Sparta, and of Thebes in rivalry with one another, and, at
last, of Macedon and Rome brooding over leagues and con-
federacies between the lesser islands and States. The Roman Their
drama is single. The City State becomes supreme in Italy ; ^?^^'^*^^^
rolls back wave after wave of Gauls and Carthaginians and ^ erences
Teutons ; extends her dominion to the ends of the earth ;
and then, suddenly, finds her Constitution shattered by the
strain of world-wide empire. Plutarch gives the actors in
all these scenes ; but it is in the last, which is the most essen- ^

tially political, that he crowds his stage with the living, and,
afterwards, cumbers it with the dead. The Greek drama is
complex, and affords no such opportunity for scenic concen-
tration. Even the first and simplest issue, of repelling an in-
vader, is made intricate at every step by the jealousy between
Sparta and Athens. Plutarch tells twice over ^ that Them-
istocles, the Athenian, who had led the allies to victory at
Salamis, proposed to burn their fleets at anchor so soon as
the danger was overpassed : for by this means Athens might
seize the supremacy of the sea. The story need not be true:
that it should ever have been conceived proves in what spirit
the Greek States went into alliance, even in face of Persia.
The lives of two other Athenians, Cimon and Aristides,
complete Plutarch's picture of the Persian War ; and after
that war he can never group his Greeks on any single stage.
Each of them seeks, indeed, to extend the influence of his
State, or to further his political opinions ; but in the tangle
of combinations resulting from their efforts one feature
remains unchanged among many changes. Through all the
fighting and the scheming it is ever Greek against Greek.
The history is a kaleidoscope, but the pieces are the same.
That is the tragedy of Greece : the ceaseless duel of the
few with the many, with a complication of racial rivalries
between independent City States. There is no climax of
development, there is no sudden failure of the heart ; but
an agony of spasm twitches at every nerve in the body in
turn. Extinction follows extinction of political power in
^ In the Themistocles and in the Aristides.

xix

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

INTRO- one State after, and at the hands of, another; and in the
DUCT I ON end there is a total edipse of national life under the shadow
of Rome.

It is customary to date the political death of Greece
from the battle at Chseronea, in which the Macedonians
overthrew the allied armies of Athens and Thebes. But
Plutarch's to Plutarch, who had a better, because a nearer, point of
Outlook upon view, the perennial virulence of race and opinion, which
p ?.^. constituted so much of the political life of Greece, went

after Chasronea as merrily as before. The combatants,
on whose sky was but clouded by the empire of Alexander,
fought on into the night of Roman rule ; and, when they
relented, it was even then, according to Plutarch, only from
sheer exhaustion. Explaining the lull in these rivalries
during the old age of Philopoemen, he writes that ' like as
' the force and strength of sickness declineth, as the natural
' strength of the sickly body impaireth, envy of quarrel and
' war surceased as their power diminished.' Of these Greeks,
other than the founders and the heroes of the Persian War,
six were leaders in the rivalry, first, between Athens and
Sparta and, then, between Sparta and Thebes. Of these,
three were Athenians — Pericles, Nicias, and Alcibiades ; two
were Spartans — Lysander and Agesilaus ; one was Pelopidas
the Theban. These six lives complete Plutarch's picture
of the Peloponnesian War. Then, still keeping to Greeks
proper, he indulges in an excursion to Syracuse in the lives
of Dion and Timoleon. Later, in the lives of Demosthenes
and Phocion, you feel the cloud of the Macedonian Empire
gathering over Greece. And, lastly, while Rome and Mace-
don fight over her head for the substance of dominion and
political reform, two kings of Sparta, Agis and Cleomenes,
and two generals of the Achaean League, Aratus and Philo-
poemen, are found still thwarting each other for the shadow.
Plutarch shows four others, not properly to be called Greeks :
the Macedonians Alexander and Demetrius, Pyrrhus the
Molossian, and Eumenes, born a Greek of Cardia, but a
Macedonian by his career. These four come on the stage as
an interlude between the rivalries of the Peloponnesian War
and the last futilities of the Achaean League. Alexander

XX

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

for a time obliterates all lesser lights ; and in the lives of INT'RO-
the other three we watch the flashing train of his successors. DUCTION
All are shining figures, all are crowned, all are the greatest
adventurers of the world ; and tumbling out of one kingdom
into another, they do battle in glorious mellays for cities and
diadems and Queens.

Taking a clue from the late reconstitution of the most Forgeries and
moving scenes at Athens and Rome, I follow it through Interpola-
the Parallel Lives, and I sketch the political framework it ^^^^^
discovers. Into that framework, which co-extends with
Plutarch's original conception, I can fit every life in North''s
first edition, from the Theseus to the Aratits. 1 could not
overlook so palpable and so significant a result of Plutarch's
political temperament ; and I must note it because it has
been overlooked, and even obscured, in later editions of
Amyot and North. Amyofs first and second editions, of
1559 and 1565, both end with the Otho, which, although it
does not belong to the Parallel Lives, was at least Plutarch.
But to Amyot's third, of 1567, there were added the Annibal
and the Scipion (major), first fabricated for the Latin trans- In Latin
lation of 1470 by Donato Acciaiuoli and translated into
French by Charles de TEscluse, or de la Since, as North
prefers to call him. These two lives North received into his
first edition : together with a comparison by Simon Goulards
Senlisien, an industrious gentleman who, as ' S. G. S.,'
supplied him with further material at a later date.^ For French
indeed, once begun in the first Latin translation, this process
of completing Plutarch knew no bounds for more than two
hundred years. The Spanish historian, Antonio de Guevara, and Spanish
had perpetrated a decade of emperors, Trajan, Hadrian, and
eight more, and these, too, were translated into French by
Antoine Allegre, and duly appended to the Amyot of 1567
by its publisher Vascosan. All was fish that came to Vascosan's
net. The indefatigable S. G. S. concocted lives of Augustus
and Seneca ; translated biographies from Cornelius Nepos ;

^ Professor Skeat, in his Shakespeare^ Plutarch, leaves the attribution of
these initials in doubt. They have been taken by many French editors of
Amyot to stand for B. de Girard, Sieur du Haillan, but M. de Blignieres
shows in his Essai sur Amyot, p. 184, that they stood for Simon Goulard, the
translator of Seneca.

xxi

INTRO-
DUCTION

North's
Additions

Rowe and
Dacier

Simon
Goulard

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

and, with an excellent turn for symmetry, supplied unaided
all the Comparisons which are not to be found in Plutarch.
The Chseronean either wrote them, and they were lost ; or,
possibly, he paused before the scaUng of Caesar and Alex-
ander, content with the perfection he had achieved. But
S. G. S. knew no such emban-assment ; and Amyofs publisher
of 1583 accepted his contributions, as before, in the lump.
North in his third edition of 1603 is a little, but only a
little, more fastidious : he rejects all the Comparisons except,
oddly enough, that between Caesar and Alexander ; but on
the other hand, he accepts from S. G. S. the lives of ' worthy
' chieftains ' and ' famous philosophers ' ^ who — and this is
a point — were not, as all Plutarch's exemplars were before
everything, public men. Later, the international compli-
ment was returned. The Abbe Bellenger translated into
French eight lives — of ^Eneas, Tullus Hostilius, and so
forth — concocted in English by Thomas Rowe ; and these
in their turn were duly added, first to Dacier's Plutarch
in 1734, and afterwards to the Amyot of 1783 : an edition
you are not surprised to see filling a small bookcase. Cele-
brities of all sorts were recruited, simply for their fame,
from every age, and from every field of performance —
Plato, Aristotle, Philip, even Charlemagne ! ^ And the
process of obscuring Plutarch's method did not end with the
interjection of spurious stuflF. Men cut down the genuine
Lives to convenient lengths, for summaries and ' treasuries,"*
The undefeated S. G. S. covered the margin of one edition
after another ^vith reflections tending to edification. He and
his kind epitomised Plutarch's matter and pointed his moral,
grinding them to the dust of a classical dictionary and the
ashes of a copybook headline. All these editions and epi-
tomes and maxims, being none of Plutarch's, should not, of
course, in reason have darkened his restriction on the choice
of great men. Yet by their number and their vogue, they
have so darkened it ; and the more easily, for that Plutarch,

^ Letter of dedication to Queen Elizabeth. Ed. 1631, p. 1108.

2 Fabricated also by Acciaiuoli for Campani's Latin edition of 1470, and
attributed to Plutarch by an erudite calling himself Viscellius. Amyot
himself fabricated the lives of Epaminondas and Scipio (minor) at the request
of Marguerite of Savoye, but never published them as Plutarch.
xxii

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

as I have shown, says nothing of the limit he observed. INTRO-
Beneath these additions the political framework of the Lives DUCTION
lay buried for centuries ; and even after they had been dis-
carded by later translators, it was still shrouded in the mist
they had exhaled. Banish the additions and their atmo-
sphere— fit only for puritans and pedants — and once more
the political framework emerges in all its significance and
in all its breadth.

From this effect we cannot choose but turn to the causa Plutarch's
causans — the mind that achieved it. We want to know the Mind
political philosophy of a writer who, being a student of
human character, yet held it unworthy his study save in
public men. And the curiosity will, as I think, be sharpened
rather than rebated by the reflection that many of his com-
mentators have, none the less, denied him any political insight
at all.^ Their paradox plucks us by the sleeve. From a
soil thus impregnated with the salt of political instinct one
would have looked in the harvest for some savour of political
truth ; yet one is told that the Lives, fruitful of all besides,
are barren of this. For my part, I must believe that Plut-
arch's commentators have been led to a false conclusion His Com-
along one of two paths : either they have listened too mentators
innocently to his avowed intention of portraying only char-
acter, and have been confirmed in their error by the indis-
criminate additions to his work ; or, perceiving his exclusive
choice of politicians, they have still declined to recognise
political wisdom in an unexpected shape. In a work which
is constituted, albeit without intention, upon lines thus
definitely political, one might have looked for many direct
pronouncements of political opinion. Yet in that expecta-
tion one is deceived — as I think, happily. For Plutarch's
methods, at least in respect of politics and war, are not those

^ Plutarch. Five Lectures, p. 89. Paul-Louis Courier and many others
have written to the same effect, questioning Plutarch's accuracy and insight.
On the question of accuracy, I am content to quote Ste.-Beuve, Causeries
du Lutidi, vi. 333 : ' Quand on a fait la part du rheteur et du pretre
d'Apollon en lui, il reste une bien plus large part encore, ce me semble, au
coUecteur attentif et consciencieux des moindres traditions sur les grands
hommes, au peintre abondant et curieux de la nature humaine ' : and to refer
to Freeman, Methods of Historical Study , pp. 167, 168, 184.

xxiii

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

His Methods
and Effects

His Aspasia

INTRO- of analysis or of argument, but of pageant and of drama,
DUCTION with actors living and mo\ing against a background of
processions that move and live. With all the world for his
stage, he shakes oft' the habit of the lecture-hall, and it is only
now and again that, stepping before the curtain, he ^vill
speak a prologue in a preface, or turn chorus to comment
a space upon the play. Mostly he is absorbed in presenting
his heroes as they fought and as they fell ; in unfolding, in
scene after scene, his theatriim of stirring life and majestical
death, I cannot deny his many digressions on matters
religious, moral, philosophical, and social ; and it may be
that their very number, accentuating the paucity of his
political pronouncements, has emphasised the view with
which I cannot concur. Doubtless they are there ; nor can
I believe that any would wish them away. It is interesting
to hear the Pythagorean view of the solar system ; ^ and it
is charming to be told the gossip about Aspasia ^ and Dion-
ysius 2 after his fall. In the Pericles^ for instance, Plutarch
pauses at the first mention of Aspasia's name : thinking it
' no great digression of our storie, to tell you ' by the way
what manner of woman she was.'' So 'he tells you what
manner, and, after the telling, excuses himself once more ;
since, as he says, it came ' in my minde : and me thought I
' should have dealt hardly, if I should have left it unwritten,''
His Dionysius Who will resent such compassion? Vfho so immersed in aff'airs
as to die in willing ignorance of the broken man who seemed
to be a * starke nideotte,'' with a turn for low life and repartee ?
Plutarch can'ies all before him when he says : ' methinks these
' things I have intermingled concerning Dionysius, are not
' impertinent to the description of our Lives, neither are they
' troublesome nor unprofitable to the hearei-s, unless they
' have other hasty business to let or trouble them,"* He is
irresistible in this vein, which, by its lightness, leads one to
believe that some of the lives, like some modern essays, were
first delivered before popular audiences, and then collected
with others conceived in a graver key. There are many such

^ Numa Pompilius : marred in North by a mistranslation. In the original
it approximates to the Copernican rather than to the Ptolemaic theory.
- Pericles. ^ Timoleon.

xxiv

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

digressions. But, just because his heroes are all politicians, INTRO-
of long political pronouncements there are few : even as of DUCTION
comments on the art of war you shall find scarce one, for the
reason that strategy and tactics are made plain on a hundred
fields. His politicians and captains speak and fight for
themselves. It is for his readers, if they choose, to gather
political wisdom from (say) his lives of the aforesaid thirteen
Romans ; even as, an they will, they may deduce from the
Themistocles or the Pojiipey the completeness of his grasp
upon the latest theories on the command of the sea.

Yet there are exceptions, though rare ones, to his rule ;
and in questioning the political bent of his mind we are not
left to inference alone. In the Lycurgus^ for instance, where
the actor is but a walking shadow, Plutarch must needs deal His Political
with the system associated with Lycurgus"'s name : so in this Ideals
life we have the theory of politics which Plutarch favoured,
whereas in the Pericles we have the practice of a consummate
politician. From the Lycurgus^ then, we are able to gauge
the personal equation (so to say) of the mind which, in the
Pericles, must have coloured that mind's presentment of
political action and debate. Plutarch, like Plato before him,
is a frank admirer of the laws which Lycurgus is said to
have framed. He delights in that ' perfectest manner of
' a commonwealth '' which made the city of Lycurgus ' the
' chiefest of the world, in glory and honour of government,
' by the space of five hundred years."* He tells of the law-
giver''s journey from Crete to Asia, to compare the ' policy
' of those of Crete (being then very straight and severe) with
' the superfluities and vanities of Ionia '' ; and you may gather
from the context that the one appears to the historian 'whole
' and healthful,' the others 'sick and diseased.' He seems also
to approve Lycurgus's indiscriminate contempt for all'super-
' fluous and unprofitable sciences "* ; for the devices of ' licorous
' cooks to cram themselves in corners,' of ' rhetoricians who
' teach eloquence and the cunning cast of lying,' of goldsmiths
and fortune-tellers and panders. Again, it is Avith satisfac-
tion that he paints his picture of Lycurgus returning ' home
' one day out of the fields . . . laughing ' as he ' saw the
' number of sheaves in shocks together and no one shock

d XXV

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

INTRO-
DUCTION

bigger

His Prefer-
ence for the
Born Ruler

than another ' ; all Laconia being ' as it were an
inheritance of many brethren, who had newly made parti-
tion together/ But if Plutarch approves the suppression
of luxury and the equal distribution of wealth as ideals, he
does not approve the equal distribution of power. He is in
favour of constitutional republics and opposed to hereditary
monarchies ; though he will tolerate even these in coun-
tries where they already exist.^ But he is for republics and
against monarchies only that the man ' born to rule ' may
have authority : such a man, for instance, as Lycurgus,
' born to rule, to command, and to give orders, as having in
' him a certain natural grace and power to draw men will-
' w?^^3/ to obey him.'' In any State, he postulates, on the one
hand, an enduring Constitution and a strong Senate of proved
men ; on the other, a populace with equal political rights of
electing to the Senate and of sanctioning the laws that Senate
may propose. Yet these in themselves are but preliminary
conditions of liberty and order. Besides, for the preservation
of a State there are needed rulers few and fit, armed with
enough authority and having courage enough to wield it. It
is essential that the few, who are fit, shall direct and govern
the many, who are not. If authority be impaired, whether
by incompetence in the few or through jealousy in the many,
then must disaster follow. Now, many who hold this view
are prone, when disaster does follow, to blame the folly of
the many rather than the unfitness of the few. But Plutarch
is distinguished in this : that, holding the view as firmly as
any have held it — now preaching the gospel of authority and
now exhibiting its proof at every turn — he yet imputes the
His Theory of blame of failure, almost always, to incompetence or to cow-
Culpability ardice in the few. ' He that directeth well must needs be
' well obeyed. For like as the art of a good rider is to make
' his horse gentle and ready at commandment, even so the
' chiefest point belonging to a prince is to teach his people
' to obey.' I take these words from the Lycurgus. They
set forth Plutarch's chief political doctrine ; and the state-
ment of fact is pointed with his favourite image. That the
horse (or the many) should play the antic at will, is to him
^ Comparison of Demetrius with Antonitis.

xxvi

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

plainly absurd : the horse must be ridden, and the many must INTRO-
be directed and controlled. Yet, if the riding, or the govern- DUCTION
ing, prove a failure, Plutarch"'s quarrel is with the ruler and
the horseman, not with the people or the mount. For he
knows well that ' a ragged colt oftimes proves a good horse,
* specially if he be well ridden and broken as he should be.' ^ His Favourite
This is but one of his innumerable allusions to horse-break- Image
ing and hunting : as, for instance, in the Paulus JEmilius, he
includes ' riders of horses and hunts of Greece ' among painters
and gravers of images, grammarians and rhetoricians, as the
proper Greek tutors for completing the education of a Roman
moving with the times. And no one who takes note of these
allusions can doubt that, as one of a chivalrous and sporting
race, he was qualified to deal with images drawn from the
manege and the chase. As little can any one who follows
his political drama miss the application of these images.
Sometimes, indeed, his constant theme and his favomite image
almost seem fused : as when he describes the natural grace
of his Cassar, ' so excellent a rider of horse from his youth,
' that holding his hands behind him, he would galop his
' horse upon the spur '' ; a governor so ever at one with those
he governed, that he directed even his charger by an inflexion
of his will rather than of his body. This need of autho-
rity and the obligation on the few to maintain it — by
a ' natural grace,' springing, on the one hand, from courage
combined with forbearance ; and leading, on the other, to
harmony between the rulers and the ruled — is the text
which, given out in the Lycurgus, is illustrated thi'oughout
the Parallel Lives.

I have said that, apart from the Lycnrgus, Plutarch's His Philo-
political pronouncements are to be found mostly in the sophy of
prefaces to certain ' books ' and in scattered comments on Harmony
such action as he displays. And of all these ' books ' the
Pericles and Fahius Maximus is, perhaps, the richest in
pronouncements, in both its preface and its body, all bearing
on his theory of authority and on its maintenance by ' natural
grace.' A ' harmony ' is to be aimed at ; but a harmony
in the Dorian mode. Pericles is commended because in later
^ Themistodes.

xxvii

INTRO-
DUCTION

The Greatness
of Pericles

and Fabius
Maximus

A Result
of this
Harmony

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

life ' he was wont . . . not so easily to grant to ail the
' people's wills and desires, no more than as it were to
* contrary winds.' In Plutarch's eyes he did well when ' he
' altered his over-gentle and popular manner of government
' ... as too delicate and effeminate an harmony of music,
' and did convert it into an imperious government, or rather
' a kingly authority.' He has nothing but praise for the in-
dependence and fortitude by which Pericles achieved Caesar's
policy of uniting within himself all the yearly offices of the
State, ' not for a little while, nor in a gear (fashion) of
' favour,' but for ' forty years together.' He compares him
to the captain of a ship ' not hearkening to the passengers'
' fearful cries and pitiful tears,' and holds him up for an
example, since he ' neither would be persuaded by his friends'
' earnest requests and entreaties, neither cared for his enemies'
' threats and accusations against him, nor yet reckoned of all
' their foolish scoffing songs they sung of him in the city.'
So, too, in the same book, when Plutarch comes to portray
Fabius Maximus, he gives us that great man's view : that
' to be afeard of the wagging of every straw, or to regard
' every common prating, is not the part of a worthy man of
' charge, but rather of a base-minded person, to seek to please
' those whom he ought to command and govern, because
' they are but fools.' (Thus does bkmt Sir Thomas render
Amyot's polite, but equally sound, ^ parce qiCils ne sont pas
' sages.'') But the independence and the endurance neces-
sary in a ruler are not to be accompanied by irritation or
contempt. "Wliile ' to flatter the common people ' is at best
' effeminate,' and at worst ' the broad high- way of them that
' practise tyranny,' ^ still, ' he is less to be blamed that seeketh
' to please and gratify his common people than he that de-
' spiseth and disdaineth them ' ; for here is no harmony at
all, but discord. The words last quoted are from the Com-
parison between Alcibiades and Coriolanus, two heroes out
of tune with their countrymen, whose courage and independ-
ence were made thereby of no avail. But in the Pericles and
Fabius Maximus Plutarch shows us heroes after his o^vn
heart, and in his preface to their lives he insists more ex-
^ Furius Camilhis.

xxviii

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

plicitly than elsewhere on the need of not only courage and INTRO-
independence but also forbearance and goodwill ; since with- DUCTION
out these, their complements, the other virtues, are sterile.
Pericles and Fabius, being at least as proud and brave as Three
Alcibiades and Coriolanus, ' for tliat they would patiently Contrasts
' bear the follies of their people and companions that were
' in charge of government with them, were marvellous profit-
' able members for their country."' He returns to this theory
of harmony in his preface to the Phocion and Cato. In
every instance he assumes as beyond dispute, that the few
must govern, working an obedience in the many ; but they
are to work it by a 'natural grace' of adaptation to the
needs and natures they command. In this very book he
blames Cato of Utica, not for the ' ancient simplicity ' of his
manner, which 'was indeed praiseworthy,"* but, simply be-
cause it was ' not the convenientest, nor the fittest ' for him ;
for that ' it ansAvered nor respected not the use and manners
' of his time.""

How comes it to pass that Plutarch"'s heroes, being thus The Practice
prone to compromise, yet fight and die, often at their own ^"^ Theory of
hands, for the ideals they uphold ? The question is a fair ^lUf" ^
one, and the answer reveals a profound difference between
the theory and the practice of politics approved by the
ancient world and the theory and the practice of politics
approved in the England of to-day. ' The good and ill,"*
says Plutarch, ' do nothing differ but in mean and medio-
' crity."* We might therefore expect in his heroes a reluc-
tance to sacrifice all for a difference of degree ; and especially
might we suppose that, after deciding an equipoise so nice as
that between 'authority and lenity,' his governors would stake
little on their decision. But in a world of adjustment and
doubt they are all for compromise in theory, while in action
they are extreme. They are ready in spite, almost because,
of that doubt, to seal with their blood such certainty as they
can attain. His statesmen, inasmuch as they do respect
' the use and manners ' of their time, endure all things while
they live, and at last die quietly, not for an abstract idea or
a sublime emotion, but for the compromise of their day :
though they know it for a compromise, and foresee its

xxix

INTRO-
DUCTION

Our Own

Some Con-
stants of the
Problem

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

inevitable destruction. They have no enthusiasm, and no
ecstasy. Uninspired from without, and self-gathered within,
they live their lives, or lay them down, for the use and wont
of their country. In reading their history an Englishman
cannot but be struck by the double contrast between these
tendencies of theory and action and the tendencies of theory
and action finding favour in England now. Ever extreme
in theory, we are all for compromise in fact; proud on
the one score of our sincerity, on the other of our common-
sense. We are fanatics, who yet decline to persecute,
still less to suffer, for our faith. And this temperance of
behaviour, following hard on the violent utterance of
belief, is apt to show something irrational and tame. The
actor stands charged, often unjustly, with a lack of both
logic and courage. The Greeks, on the other hand, who
found ' truth in a union of opposites and the aim of life in
' its struggle,' ^ and the Romans, who aped their philosophy
and outdid their deeds, are not, in Plutarch^'s pages, open to
this disparagement. They live or die for their faiths as
they found them, and so appear less extravagant and more
brave. The temper is illustrated again and again by the
manner in which they observe his doctrine, that rulers must
maintain their authority, and at the same time ' bear the
' follies of their people and companions that are in charge
' of government with them."* To read the Pericles or the
Pompeius, the Julius CcBsar or the Cato, is to feel that a
soldier may as well complain of bullets in a battle as a states-
man of stupidity in his colleagues. These are constants of
the problem. Only on such terms are fighting and ruling to
be had. So, too, with 'the people "*: with the many, that
is, who have least chance of understanding the game, least
voice in its conduct, least stake in its success. If these
forget all but yesterday's service, if they look only for to-
morrow's reward, the hero is not therefore to complain.
This short-lived memory and this short-sighted imagination
are constants also. They are regular fences in the course he
has set himself to achieve. He must clear them if he can, and
fall if he cannot ; but he must never complain. They are con-
^ Tke Moral Ideal, Julia Wedgwood, p. 82.
XXX

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

ditions of success, not excuses for failure; and to name INTRO-
them is to be ridiculous. The Plutarchian hero never does DUCTION
name them. He is obstinate, but not querulous. He cares
only for the State ; he insists on saving it in his own way ;
he kills himself, if other counsels prevail. But he never
complains, and he offers no explanations. Living, he prefers
action before argument ; dying, he chooses drama rather than
defence. While he has hope, he acts like a great man ; and
when hope ceases, he dies like a great actor. He and his
fellows seek for some compromise between authority and
lenity, and, having found it, they maintain it to the end.
They are wise in taking thought, and sublime in taking
action : whereas now, we are courageous in our theories, but
exceeding cautious in our practice. Yet who among modern
politicians will say that Plutarch's men were in the wrong .''
Who, hoarse ^vith shouting against the cataract of circum-
stance, will dare reprove the dumb-show of their lives and
deaths ?

I have shown from the Li/curgus, from the prefaces to Plutarch's
the Pericles and the PJiociOTi, and from scattered com- Political
ments elsewhere, that Plutarch has something to say upon jyyJIliy
politics which, whether we agree with him or not, is at least Ordered
worthy our attention. There is yet an occasion of one other
kind — which he takes, I think, only twice — for speaking
his own mind upon politics. After the conclusion of a long
series of events, ending, for instance, in the rule of Rome
over Greece, or in the substitution of the Empire for the
Republic, he assembles these conclusions, at first sight to him
unreasonable and unjust, and seeks to interpret them in the
light of divine wisdom and justice. Now, he was nearer than
we are to the two great sequences I have denoted, by seven-
teen centm'ies : he lived, we may say, in a world which they
had created anew. And whereas he took in all political
questions a general interest so keen that it has coloiu'ed the
whole of a work not immediately addressed to politics, in
these two sequences his interest was particular and personal :
in the first because of his patriotism, and in the second be-
cause of his familiar converse with the best in Rome. We
are happy, then, in the judgment of such a critic on the two

xxxi

INTRO-
DUCTION

His Accept-
ance of the
Sovranty of
Rome

For the Sake
of Roman
Virtue

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

greatest political dramas enacted in the ancient world. The
human — I might say the pathetic — interest of the treatment
accorded by the patriotic Greek to the growth of Roman
dominion and its final extension over the Hellenistic East,
will absorb the attention of many. But it offers, besides, as
I think, although this has been questioned, much of political
wisdom. In any case, on the one count or upon the other,
I feel bound to indicate the passages in which he comments
on these facts. We are not in doubt as to his general views
on Imperial aggression and a ' forward policy.' After noting
that the Romans forsook the peaceful precepts of Numa,
and ' filled all Italy with murder and blood,"" he imagines
one saying : ' But hath not Rome excelled still, and prevailed
' more and more in chivalry .? "" And he replies : ^ ' This ques-
' tion requireth a long answer, and especially unto such men
' as place felicity in riches, in possessing and in the greatness
' of empire, rather than in quiet safety, peace and concord of
' a common weal.'' For his part he thought with Lycurgus,^
that a city should not seek to command many ; but that ' the
' felicity of a city, as of a private man, consisted chiefly in
' the exercise of virtue, and the unity of the inhabitants
' thereof, and that the citizens should be nobly minded
' (Amyot : francs de cueiirs), content with their own, and
' temperate in their doings {attrempez en tous leurs faicts\
' that thereby they might maintain and keep themselves long
' in safety.' But, holding this general opinion, and biassed
into the bargain by his patriotism, he cannot relate the
stories of Aratus and Philopoemen on the one hand, or of
Flaminius and Lucullus on the other, without accepting
the conclusion that the rule of Rome was at last necessary
for the rational and just government of the world ; and,
therefore, was inevitably ordained by the Divine wisdom.
Rome ' increased and grew strong by arms and continual
' wars, like as piles driven into the ground, which the more they
' are rammed in the further they enter and stick the faster^ ^
For it was by obedience and self-restraint, by a ' yielding
' unto reason and virtue "* that the * Romans came to com-

Comparhon of Lycurgus with Numa Pompilius.
Lycurgus. ^ Numa Pompilius.

XXXll

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

' mand all other and to make themselves the mightiest INTRO-
' people of the world/ ^ In Greece he finds nothing of this DUCTION
obedience and this self-restraint ; nothing but rivalry be-
tween leaders and jealousy between States. Cleomenes, the
Spartan king, Aratus and Philopcemen, both leaders of the
Achaean League, are among the last of his Greek heroes. He
lingers over them lovingly ; yet it is Aratus who, in jealousy
of Cleomenes, brings Antigonus and his Macedonians into
Greece ; and it is Flaminius, the Roman, who expels them.
In this act some modern critics have seen only one of
many cloaks for a policy of calculated aggression, but it is
well to remember for what it is worth that Plutarch, the
Greek patriot, saw in it simply the act of a 'just and com-- As Opposed to
' teous gentleman,"* and that, according to him, the ' only the Selfish-
' cause of the utter destruction of Greece ' must be sought "^^^ ^"^ *^®
earlier : when Aratus preferred the Macedonians before ofGreece ^^'^
allowing Cleomenes a first place in the Achaean League.
In the Cimon and Lucullus^ even after Greece became a
Roman province, he shows the same rivalries on a smaller
scale. The * book "* opens with a story which, with a few
changes, mostly of names, might be set in the Ireland of a
hundred years ago. One Damon, an antique Rory of the
Hills, after just provocation, collects a band of moonlighters
who, with blackened faces, set upon and murder a Roman
captain. The town council of Chaeronea condemns Damon
and his companions to death, in proof of its own innocence,
and is murdered for its pains. At last Damon himself is
enticed into a bathhouse, and killed. Then the Orchome-
nians, 'being near neighbours unto the Chaeroneans, and
' therefore their enemies,'' hire an ' informer "* to accuse all the
Chaeroneans of complicity in the original murder ; and it is
only the just testimony of the Roman general, Lucullus, who
chances to be marching by, which saves the town from
punishment. An image is set up to Lucullus which Plutarch
has seen ; and even to his day ' terrible voices and cries "* are
heard by the neighbours from behind the walled-up door of
the bathhouse, in which Damon had died. He knows the
whole story from his childhood, and knows that in this small
^ Paulus ALiniluis.

e xxxiii

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

INTRO- matter Lucullus showed the same justice and courtesy which
DUCTION Flaminius had displayed in a gi'eat one. For it is only the
strong who can be just ; and therefore to the strong there
falls in the end, without appeal, the reward, or the penalty,
of doing justice throughout the world. That seems to be
Plutarch's 'long answer "" to those who question the justice
The Justice of the Roman Empire. He gives it most fully in the life of
of the Roman Flaminius, taking, as I have said, a rare occasion in order to
Lmpire comment on the conclusion of a long series of events. First,

he sums up the results achieved by the noble Greeks, many
of whose lives he has written. ' For Agesilaus,' he writes,
' Lysander, Nicias, Alcibiades, and all other the famous cap-
' tains of former times, had very good skill to lead an army,
' and to winne the battle, as well by sea as by land, but to
' turn their victories to any honourable benefit, or true honour
' among men, they could never skill of it "* ; especially as,
apart from the Persian War, 'all the other wars and the
' battles of Greece that were made fell out against them-
' selves, and did ever bring them unto bondage : and all
' the tokens of ti'iumph which ever were set up for the
' same was to their shame and loss.^ Having summed up the
tragedy of Greece in these words, he turns to the Roman lade,
and ' The good deeds of the Romans and of Titus Quintus
' Flaminius,' he says, ' unto the Grecians, did not only reap this
' benefit unto them, in recompense that they were praised
' and honoured of all the world ; but they were cause also of
' increasing their dominions and empire over all nations.'
So that ' peoples and cities . . . procured them to come, and did
' put themselves into their hands ' ; and ' kings and princes
' also (which were oppressed by other more mighty than
' themselves) had no other refuge but to put themselves
' under their protection, by reason whereof in a very short
' time ... all the world came to submit themselves under the
' protection of their empire.'
Plutarch and In the same way, he, a republican, acquiesced in the neces-
Caesar gj^-y fgj. Caesar. Having told the story of Brutus, the last

of the thirteen Romans, he falls on the other of my two
occasions, and ' Caesar's power and government,' he writes,
' when it came to be established, did indeed much hurt at
xxxiv

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

' his first entrie and beginning unto those that did resist INTRO-

' him : but afterwards there never followed any tyrannical nor DUCTION

* cruel act, but contrarily, it seemed that he was a merciful

' Physician whom God had ordained of special grace to he

' Governor of the Empire of Rome, and to set all thing's again

' at quiet stay, the which required the counsel and authority

' of an absolute Prince.'' That is his epilogue to the longest

and the mightiest di'ama in all history ; and in it we have

for once the judgment of a playwright on the ethics of

his play. Yet so great a dramatist was Plutarch that even One Effect of

his epilogue has not saved him from the fate of his peers, liis Art

While some, with our wise King James i., blame him for

injustice to Caesar,^ yet others find him a niggard in his

worship of Brutus and Cato. The fact is, each of his

heroes is for the moment of such flesh and blood as to

compel the pity of him that reads ; for each is in turn the

brother of all men, in their hope and in their despair. If,

then, the actor chances to be Brutus and the reader King

James, Plutarch is damned for a rebel ; but again, if the

reader be a republican, when Servilia's lover wraps him in

his cloak and falls, why, then is Plutarch but the friend of

a tyrant. Thus by the excellence of his art he forces us

to argue that his creatures must reign in his affection as

surely as for a moment they can seize upon our own. Take

an early hero of the popular party — take Caius Gracchus. Caius

We know him even to his trick of vehement speech ; and, Gracchus

knowing him so intimately, we cannot but mourn over that

parting from his wife, when he left her to meet death, and

she, 'reaching after him to take him by the gown, fell to

' the ground and lay flatlings there a great while, speak-

' ing never a word."* Cato, again, that hero of the other Cato

side, lives to be forbidding for his affectation ; yet who

but remembers the clever boy making orations full of ' witt

' and vehemence,' with a ' certaine gravetie '' which ' de-

' lighted his hearers and made them laugh, it did so please

' them "* ? One harks back to the precocious youngster, once

the hope of the winning party, when Cato, left alone in

* In his interview with Casaubon. See Ste.-Beuve : Causeries du Lundi,
xiv. 402.

XXXV

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

INTRO- Utica, the last soul true to a lost cause, asks the dis-
DUCTION semblers of his sword if they 'think to keep an old
' man alive by force ? "" He takes kindly thought for
the safety of his friends, reads the Phcedo, and dozes
fitfully through the night, and behold ! you are in the
room with a great man dying. You feel with him that
chill disillusion of the dawn, when ' the little birds began
' to chirp'' •, you share in the creeping horror of his servants,
listening outside the door ; and when they give a ' shriek
' for fear ' at the ' noise of his fall, overthrowing a little
' table of geometry hard by his bed," it is almost a relief
to know that the recovered sword has done its work.
Pompeius And who can help loving Pompey, Avith his ' curtesie in
Magnus i conversation ; so that there was never man that requested

' anything with less ill icill than he, nor that more willingly
' did pleasure unto any man when he was requested. For
' he gave zaithout disdain and took with great honour ' ?
' The cast and soft moving of his eyes . . . had a certain
' resemblaunce of the statues and images of King Alexander.'
Even ' Flora the curtisan "" — Villon"'s ' Flora la belle Romaine "'
— pined away for love of him when he turned her over to a
friend. He is all compact of courage and easy despair : now
setting sail in a tempest, for ' it is necessity, I must go, but
' not to live '' ; and again, at Pharsalia, at the first reverse
\fo7getting that he was Pompey the Great,"" and leaving the
field to walk silently away. And that last scene of all : when
on a desolate shore a single ' infranchised bondman ' who had
' remained ever "* by the murdered hero, ' sought upon the
' sands and found at the length a piece of an old fisher''s
' boat enough to serve to burn his naked body with ' ; and so
a veteran Avho had been with him in his old wars happens
upon the afflicting scene ; and you hear him hail the other
lonely figure : ' O friend, what art thou that preparest the
' funerals of Pompey the Great ? . . . Thou shall not have
' all this honour alone ... to bury the only and most
' famous Captain of the Romans !'

There is sorcery in Plutarch's presentments of these politi-
cians, which may either blind to the import of the drama
they enact, or beguile into thinking that he sympathises
xxxvi

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

by turns with the ideal of eveiy leader he portrays. But INTRO-
behind the glamour of their living and the glory of their DUCTION
death, a relentless progression of political causes and effects
conducts inevitably to Caesar's personal rule. In no other
book do we see so full an image of a nation's life, because in
no other is the author so little concerned to prove the truth
of any one theory, or the nobility of any one sentiment.
He is detached — indeed, absorbed — in another purpose. He Plutarch's
exhibits his thirteen vivid personalities, holding, mostly by Impartiality
birth, to one of two historic parties, and inheriting with
those parties certain traditional aspirations and beliefs ; yet
by showing men as they are, he contrives to show that truth
and nobility belong to many divergent beliefs and to many
conflicting aspirations. Doubtless he has his own view, his
rooted abhorrence to the rule of one man ; and this persua-
sion inclines him now to the Popular Party in its opposition
to Sulla, and again to the Senate in its opposition to Caesar.
But still, by the sheer force of his realism, he drives home, as
no other writer has ever done, the great truth that theories
and sentiments are in politics no more than flags and tuckets
in a battle : that in fighting and in government it is, after
all, the fighting and the governing which must somehow
or another be achieved. And, since in this world govern- His Con-
ing there must be, the question at any moment is : What elusion m the
are the possible conditions of government ? In the latter ^^^^^jj^^ ^^^
days of the Republic it appears from the Lives that two
sets of causes had led to a monstrous development of
individuals, in whose shadow all lower men must wither
away. So Sertorius sails for the ' Fortunate Islands ** ; Cato
is juggled to Cyprus; Cicero is banished; while Lucullus,
out-metalled by Pompey on his own side, ' lay still and took
' his pleasure, and would no more meddle with the common-
' wealth,' and the unspeakable Bibulus ' kept him close in his
' house for eight months' space, and only sent out bills,' At
last you have the Triumvirate ; and then, with Crassus killed,
the two protagonists face to face : ' whose names the strange
' and far nations understood before the name of Romans, so
' great were their victories.' Given the Roman dominion and
two parties with the traditions of Marius and Sulla behind

xxxvii

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

INTRO- them, there was nothing for it but that one or other should
DUCTION prove its competence to rule; and no other way of achieving
this than finding the man and giving him the power. The
Marians found Caesar, and in him a man who could find power
for himself. The political heirs of Sulla found Cato and
Brutus, and Lucullus and Pompey ; but none of these was
Caesar, and, such as they were, the Senate played them off
the one against the other. Bemused with theories and senti-
ments, they neither saw the necessity, nor seized the means,
of governing a world that cried aloud for government. In
Plutarch you watch the play ; and, whatever you may think
of the actors — of Crassus or Cato, Pompey or Caesar — of the
non-actors you can think nothing. Bibulus, with his ' bills,*"
and the Senate, which bade Pompey disband his troops, stand
for ever as types of formal incompetence. Plutarch shows
The True that it is wiser and more righteous to win the game by
Morality accepting the rules, even if sometimes you must strain and

break them, than to leave the table because you dislike the
rules. Instead of quarrelling with the rules and losing the
game, the Senate should have won the game, and then have
changed the rules. This Caesar did, as Plutarch the repub-
lican allows, to the saving of his country and the lasting
profit of mankind. Doubtless he shows the argument in
action, and points the moral only in an epilogue. But living,
as we do, after the politicians of so many ages and so
many parties have laid competing claims to the glory of his
chiefs, this is our gain. Brutus and Cato, heroes of the
Renaissance and gods of liberty a hundred years ago, we
are told by eminent historians, were selfish oligarchs :
bunglers who, having failed to feed the city or to flush the
drains, wrote ' sulky letters *" ^ about the one man who could
do these things, and govern the world into the bargain.
Between these views it skills not to decide. It is enough to
take up the Lives and to rejoice that Plutarch, writing one
hundred and fifty years after the foundering of the Republic,
dwelt rather on its heroes who are for ever g-lorious than on
its theories which were for ever shamed.

In his book are three complete plays : the brief tragedy
^ Mommsen : he uses the phrase of Cicero.

xxxviii

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

of Athens — that land of ' honey and hemlock,'' offering her cup I NTRO-
of sweet and deadly elements to the dreamers of every age; DUCTION
with the drama of the merging of Greece in the dominion
of Rome and the drama of the overthrow of the Roman
Republic. And the upshot of all three is that the playwright The Moral of
insists on the culture of the individual for the sake of the *^.® Parallel
State. The political teacher behind the political dramatist ^^^*
inculcates, no theory of politics but, an attitude towards life.
Good is the child of custom and conflict, not the reward of
individual research ; so he shows you life as one battle in
which the armies are ordered States. Every man, therefore,
must needs be a citizen, and every citizen a soldier in the
ranks. For this service, life being a battle, he must culti-
vate the soldier's virtues of courage and courtesy. The
word is North's, and smacks something more of chivalry
than Amyofs humanite; yet both may be taken to point
Plutarch's moral, not only that victory is impossible without
kindness between comrades, and intolerable without forbear-
ance between foes, but also, that in every age of man's progress
to perfection through strife these qualities must be developed
to a larger growth measured by the moral needs of war
between nations and parties. He insists again and again
on this need of courtesy in a world wherein all men are in Courtesy in
duty bound to hold opposite opinions, for which they must Victory
in honour live and die. For this his Sertorius, his Lucullus,
and his Mummius, sketched in a passing allusion, are chiefly
memorable ; while of Caesar he writes that ' amongst other

* honours ' his enemies gave him ' he rightly deserved this,
' that they should build him a Temple of Clemency.' Caesar,
lighting from his horse to embrace Cicero, the arch-instigator
of the opposition he had overthrown, and walking with him

* a great way a-foot ' ; or Demetrius, who, the Athenians
having defaulted, gathers them into the theatre, and then,
when they expect a massacre, forgives them in a speech —
these are but two exemplars of a style which Plutarch ever
praises. And if his standard of courtesy in victory be high,

not lower is his standard of courage in defeat. Demosthenes and Courage
is condemned for that ' he took his banishment unmanly,' i" Defeat
while Phocion, his rival, is made glorious for his irony in

xxxix

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

INTRO- death : paying, when the stock ran out, for his own hemlock,
DUCTION ' sith a man cannot die at Athens for nothing.' In defeat
Plutarch''s heroes sometimes doubted if Hfe were worth hving ;
but they never doubted there were things in Hfe worth dying
for. Even Demosthenes is redeemed in his eyes because, at
the last, ' sith the god Neptune denied him the benefit of
' his sanctuary, he betook him to a greater, and that was
' Death.'' So often does Plutarch applaud the act of suicide,
and so scornfully does he revile those who, like the last king
of Macedon, forewent their opportunity, that we might easily
misconceive his ethics. But ' when a man will willingly kill
' himself, he must not do it to be rid of pains and laboui',
' but it must have an honourable respect and action. For,
' to live or die for his own respect, that cannot but be dis-
' honourable. . . . And therefore I am of opinion that we
' should not yet cast off the hope we have to serve our
' country in time to come ; but when all hope faileth us,
*• then we may easily make ourselves away when we list.'
Thus, after Selasia, the last of the kings of Sparta, who re-
called the saying of Lycurgus : that, with ' great personages
' . . . the end of their life should be no more idle and un-
' profitable then the rest of their life before." And this is
the pith of Plutarch's political matter : that men may not
with honour live unto themselves, but must rather live and
die m respect to the State.

Moralist or
Painter .''

Plutarch's
Art

II

Side by side, and in equal honour, with Plutarch the
dramatist of politics there should stand, I think — not
Plutarch the moralist but — Plutarch the unrivalled painter
of men. Much has been written, and rightly written, of his
perennial influence upon human character and human con-
duct ; yet outside the ethics of citizenship he insisted on little
that is not now a platitude. The interest of his morals springs
from their likeness to our own ; the wonder of his portraitures
must ever be new and strange. Indeed, we may speak of his
art much as he writes, through North, of the ' stately and
' sumptuous buildings ' which Pericles ' gave to be built in

xl

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

' the cittie of Athens.' For ' it looketh at this daye as if it INTRO-
' were but newly done and finished, there is such a certainc DUCTION
' kynde of florishing freshnes in it, which letteth that the
' injurie of time cannot impaire the sight thereof: as if
' every one of those foresaid workes had some living spirite
' in it, to make it seeme young and freshe : and a soul that
' lived ever, which kept them in good continuing state/
Yet despite this 'florishing freshnes' the painter has been
slighted for the preacher, and for this preference of the ethical
before the aesthetic element in the Lives, and of both before
their political quality, Plutarch has mostly himself to thank.
Just as he masks a political framework under a professed His Profes-
devotion to the study of individual souls, so, when he comes sion not Con-
to the study of these souls, he puts you off by declaring v-^^^p*aSce
a moral aim in language that may easily mislead. ' When
' first I began these lives,' he writes in the Paulus jEmilius,
' my intent was to profit other : but since, continuing and
' going on, I have much profited myself by looking into these
' histories, as if I looked into a glasse, to frame and facion
' my life, to the moold and patterne of these vertuous noble
' men, and doe as it were lodge them with me, one after
' another.' And again, ' by keeping allwayes in minde the
' acts of the most noble, vertuous and best geven men of former
* age ... I doe teache and prepare my selfe to shake of and
' banishe from me, all lewde and dishonest condition, if by
' chaunce the companie and conversation of them whose com-
' panic I keepe . . . doe acquaint me with some unhapjne or
' ungratious touche.'' Now, as matter of fact, he does not
keep always in mind these, and these only. Doubtless his
aim was moral; yet assuredly he never did pursue it by
denoting none save the virtuous acts of the ' most noble,
' vertuous, and best geven men.' On the contrary, his practice
is to record their every act of significance, whether good or
bad. I admit that he does this ever with a most happy and
most gracious touch ; for his ' first study ' is to write a good
man's ' vertues at large,' and if ' certaine faultes ' be there,
' to pass them over lightly 0/ reverent shame to the mere
'' frayclty of marl's nature.''^ He lays the ruin of his
^ Preface to the Cimon and Luaillus.

f xU

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

INTRO- country at the door of Aratus alone; but 'this,"* he adds,
DUCTION i ^i^jj^ ^yg have written of Aratus ... is not so much to
' accuse him as to make us see the frayelty and weakness of
' man's nature : the which, though it have never so excellent
' vertues, cannot yet bring forth such perfit frute, but that
' it hath ever some mayme and blemishe.' ^ That is his wont
in portraying the ill deeds of the virtuous ; and, for their
opposites, ' as I hope,' he writes in the preface to the Deme-
trius and A ntonius, ' it shall not be reprehended in me if
' amongst the rest I put in one or two paier of suche, as
' living in great place and accompt, have increased their fame
' with infamy.' ' Phisicke,' he submits in defence of such a
choice, ' dealeth Avith diseases, musicke with discordes, to
' thend to remove them, and worke their contraries, and the
' great Ladies of all other artes (Amyot : les plus parjaittes
' sciences de toutes\ Temperaunce, Justice, and Wisdom, doe
' not onely consider honestie, uprightness and profit : but
' examine withall, the nature and effects of lewdness, corrup-
' tion and damage ' ; for ' innocencie,' he goes on, ' which
' vaunteth her want of experience in undue practices : men
' call simplicitie (Amyot : uiie bestise) and ignoraunce of
' things that be necessary and good to be knowen.' His,
then, is a moral standpoint ; and yet it is one from which he is
impelled to study — (and that as closely as the keenest apostle
of ' art for art ') — all matters having truth and significance ;
whether they be evil or good. For the sake of what is good,
he will neither distort truth nor disfigure beauty. Rather, by
the exercise of a fine selection, he will create a harmony
between the three ; so that, embracing everything except the
trivial, his art reflects the world as it shows in the sight
of sane and healthy-hearted men.

His method naturally differs from the method of some

His Canon of modern historians ; but his canon of evidence, too lax for

Evidence their purpose, is admirably suited to his own. For instance,

in telling of Solon's meeting with Croesus, he will not reject

so famous an history on chronological grounds : because, in

the first place, no two are agreed about chronology, and in

the second, the story is ' very agreeable to Solon's manners

* Agis and Cleomenes.

xlii

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

' and nature."* That is his chief canon ; and though the INTRO-
results he attains by it are in no wise doubt-proof, they DUCTION
yield a truer, because a completer, image than do the lean
and defective outlines determined by excluding all but con-
temporaiy evidence. These outlines belong rather to the
science of anthropometry than to the art of portraiture ;
and Plutarch the painter refuses such restraints. His ima-
gination having taken the imprint of his hero, he will sup-
plement it from impressions left in report and legend, so
long, at any rate, as they tally with his own ideal. Nor is
there better cause for rejecting such impressions than there
is for rejecting the fossils of primeval reptiles whose carnal
economy has perished. Given those fossils and a know-
ledge of morphology, the palaeontologist will refashion the
dragons of the prime ; and in the same way Plutarch, out
of tradition and his knowledge of mankind, paints you the true
Themistocles. His, indeed, is the surer warrant, since there
have been no such changes in human nature as science shows
in animal design ; so that the method is safe so long as
a nation's legends have not been crushed out of shape by
the superincumbent layers of a conquering race. Moreover,
Plutarch makes no wanton use of his imagination : give him
contemporary evidence, and he abides by it, rejecting all
besides. In his account of Alexander's death, having the
court journal before him, he repudiates later embellishments :
' for all these were thought to be written by some, for lyes
' and fables, because they would have made the ende of this
' great tragedie lamentable and pitifull.''

His results are, of course, unequal. He cannot always His Results
revive the past, nor quicken the dead anew. Who can ?
His gallery includes some pieces done on a faded conven-
tion, faint in colour and angular in line, mere pretexts for
a parade of legendary names : with certain sketches, as those
of Cimon and Aristides, which are hack-work turned out
to complete a pair. But first and last there stand out six
or seven realisations of living men, set in an atmosphere,
charged with a vivid intensity of expression, and striking you
in much the same way as the sight of a few people scattered
through a big room strikes you when you enter unawares.

xliii

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

INTRO- And when you have done staring at these, you will note a
DUCTION half-dozen more which are scarce less vigorously detached.
The Plutarch''s first masterpiece is the Themistodes, and there

Themistocles jg never a touch in it but tells. Even as you watch him
at work, you are conscious, leaping out from beneath his
hand, of the ambitious boy, ' sodainely taken with desire
' of glorie,' who, from his first entry into public life, ' stoode
' at pyke with the greatest and mightiest personnes/ But
you soon forget the artist in his creation. You have eyes
for nothing but Themistocles himself: now walking with
his father by the seashore; now, after Marathon, 'a very
' young man many times solitary alone devising with him-
' self — in this way passing his boyhood, for ^ Miltiades
' victory would not let Mm sleep.'' Then the ambitious boy
' develops into the political artist ; rivals Aristides, as Fox

rivalled Pitt ; and is found loving his art for its own sake,
above his country, above his ambition even, wrapt as he is,
through good fortune and ill, in the expert's delight in
his own accomplishment. Knowing what all men should
do, and swaying every several man to do it, he controls
both individuals and nations with the inspired prescience
of a master conducting his own symphony. He has all the
devices at his fingers'' ends. In the streets he will ' speake
' to every citizen by his name, no man telling him their
' names'" :, and in the council he will manage even Eury-
biades, with that ' Strike an thou wilt, so thou wilt heare
' me,"* which has been one of the world's words since its
utterance. Now with ' pleasaunt conceits and answers,' now —
with a large poetic appeal — ' pointing "" his countrymen ' the
' waye unto the sea ' ; this day, deceiving his friends, the
next overawing his enemies ; with effi-ontery or chicane, with
good-fellowship or reserve ; but ever with infinite dexterity,
a courage that never falters, and a patience that never
wearies : he keeps the shuttle of his thought quick-flying
through the web of intrigue. And all for the fun of
weaving ! Till, at the last, a banished man, being com-
manded by his Persian master to fight against Greece, ' he
' tooke a wise resolution with himselfe, to make suche an
' ende of his life, as the fame thereof deserved.' After
xliv

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

sacrificing to the gods, and feasting his friends, he drank INTRjO-

poison, 'and so ended his dayes in the cittie of Magnesia, DUCTION

' after he had lived threescore and five yeres, and the

' most parte of them allwayes in office and great charge.'

Plutarch produces this notable piece, not by comment and

analysis but, simply by setting down his sitter's acts and

words. It is in the same way that he paints his Alcibiades, The

with his beauty and his lisp: 'the grace of his eloquence, -4/c?6jarfe*

' the strength and valiantness of his bodie ... his wis-

' dom and experience in marshall aft'ayres ' ; and again,

\vith his insolence and criminal folly to the women who

loved him as to the nations he betrayed. He fought,

like the Cid, now for and now against his own. But 'he

' had such pleasaunt comely devises with him that no man

' was of so sullen a nature, but he left him merrie, nor so

' churlishe, but he would make him gentle."" And when he

died, they felt that their country died with him ; for they

' had some little poore hope left that they were not altogether

' cast away so long as Alcibiades lived.'

In the first rank of Plutarch's masterpieces come, with
these two, the Mar ins, the Cato, the Alexander, the Deme-
trius, the Antonius, and the Pompey. Modern writers have
again and again repainted some of these portraits ; but their
colour has all been borrowed from Plutarch. These heroes
live for all time in the Parallel Lives. There you shall learn
the fashion of their faces, and the tricks of their speech ; their
seat on horseback and the cut of their clothes ; with every
tone and every gesture, all the charms and all the foibles that
made them the men they were. Marcus Cato is what we call The Marcus
a ' character.' He hated doctors and, no doubt, schoolmasters; ^"'<>
for did he not educate his own son, writing for him ' goodly
' histories, in great letters with Ms oune hande ' ? He taught
the boy grammar and law, ' to throw a dart, to play at the
' sword, to vawt, to ride a horse, and to handle all sortes of
' weapons, ... to fight with fistes, to abide colde and
' heate, and to swimme over a swift runninge river.' A
' new man ' from a little village, his ideal was Manius
Curius sitting 'by the fyer's side seething of perseneapes,'
and he tried to educate everybody on the same lines. Being

xlv

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

INTRO-
DUCTION

The

Alexander
Magnus

Censor, he would proceed by way of imprisonment ; but at
all times he was ready to instruct with apothegms and ' wise
' sayings,"" and ' he would taunte a marvelous fatte man '
thus : ' See, sayd he, what good can such a body do to the
' commonwealth, that from his chine to his coddepece is
' nothing but belly ? ' This is but one of many ' wise sayings '
reported of him, whereby ' we may the easilier conjecture his
' maners and nature.' ^ Even the Alexander seems a new thing
still ; so clear is the colouring, so vigorous and expressive the
pose. ' Naturally,"" you read, ' he had a very fayre white
' colour, mingled also with red,"" and ' his body had so sweete
' a smell of itself, that all the apparell he wore next unto his
' body took thereof a passing delightful savor, as if it had
' been perfumed."" This was his idea of a holiday : ' After
' he was up in the morning, first of all he would doe sacrifice
' to the goddes, and then would goe to diner, passing awaie
' all the rest of the daye, in hunting, writing something,
' taking up some quan'ell between soldiers, or els in studying.
' If he went any journey of no hastie busines, he would
' exercise himselfe by the waie as he went, shooting in his
' bowe, or learning to get up or out of his chaiTet sodenly,
' as it ranne. Oftentimes also for his pastime he would hvmt
' the foxe, or ketch birdes, as appeareth in his booke of
' remembrances for everie daie. Then when he came to his
' lodging, he would enter into his bath and rubbe and nointe
' himselfe : and would aske his pantelers and carvers if his
' supper were ready. He would ever suppe late, and was
' very curious to see, that every man at his bourde were a
' like served, and would sit longe at the table, bycause he
' ever loved to talke."" But take him at his work of leading
others to the uttermost parts of the earth. Being parched
with thirst, in the desert, ' he tooke the helmet with water,
' and perceiving that the men of amies that were about him,
' and had followed him, did thrust out their neckes to look
' upon this water, he gave the water back againe unto them
' that had geven it him, and thanked them but drank none
' of it. For, said he, if' I drink alone all tliese men here will

^ Plutarch's Cato is accepted bodily by Mommsen for a typical ' Roman
' burgess.' History of Rome, vol. ii. pp. 429-432.
xlvi

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

^Jhint.'' What a touch ! And what wonder if his men INTRO-
' beganne to spurre their horses, saying that they were DUCTION

* not wearie nor athirst, nor did think tliernselves mortally

* so long as they had such a king '' ! There is more of self-
restraint in Pkitarch's portrait than appears in later copies.
Alexander passes by the ladies of Persia ' without any sparke

* of affection towardes them . . . preferring the beautie

* of his continencie, before their swete faire faces/ But he
was ever lavish of valour, loving ' his honour more then

* his kingdome or his life ' ; and it is with a ' marvelous faier

* white plume ' in his helmet that he plunges first into the
river at Granicus, and single-handed engages the army on
the further bank. Centuries later at Ivry, Henri-Quatre,
who learned Plutarch at his mother's knee, forgot neither
the feather nor the act. But the dead Alexander never
lacked understudies. All the kings, his successors, ' did but
' counterfeate ' him ' in his purple garments, and in numbers
' of souldiers and gardes about their persones, and in a certaine

* facion and bowing of their neckes a little, and in uttering

' his speech with a high voyce."' One of them is Demetrius, The
' the Fort-gainer," with ' his wit and manners . . . that were Demetrius
' both fearefull and pleasaunt unto men that frequented him*";
his ' sweete countenance . . . and incomparable majestic ';
' more wantonly geven to follow any lust and pleasure than
' any king that ever was ; yet alwayes very careful and
' diligent in dispatching matters of importance.'' A leader
of forlorn hopes and lewd masquerades, juggling with king-
doms as a mountebank with knives ; the lover of innumer-
able queens and the taker of a thousand towns ; in his
defeat, 'not like unto a king, but like a common player
' when the play is done ' ; drinking himself to death for that
he found ' it was that maner of life he had long desired ""
— this Poliorcetes, I say, has furnished Plutarch with the
matter for yet another masterpiece, which indeed is one
of the greater feats in romantic realism.

Of the Antonius with his ' Asiatic phrase," it is enough
to say that it is Shakespeare's Antony ; and at the Pompey
I have already glanced. The Coesar is only less wonderful The Ctesar
than these because the man is lost in the leader. Julius

xlvii

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

INTRO- travels so fast, that you catch but ghmpses as he races in
DUCTION liis litter through the night; ever dictating to his secre-
taries, and writing by the way. But now and again you
see him plainly — 'leane, white and soft-skinned, and often
'subject to head-ache''; filling his soldiers with awe, not
' at his valiantnesse at putting himself at every instant in
' such manifest danger, since they knew 'twas his greedy
' desire of honor that set him a fire' . . . but because he
' continued all labour and hardnesse more than his bodie
' could beare/ A strange ruler of the world, this epileptic,
' fighting always with his disease ' ! He amazes friends and
enemies by the swiftness of his movements, while Pompey
journeys as in state from land to land". Pompey was of
plebeian extraction, Julius was born into one of the sixteen
surviving patrician gentes ; yet Julius burns with the blast-
ing heat of a new man's endeavour, Pompey as with the
banked fires of hereditary self-esteem. And through all the
commotion and the coil he is still mindful of the day of his
youth ' when he had been acquainted with Servilia, who was
' extreamilie in love with him. And because Brutus was
' boorne in that time when their love was hottest he per-
' suaded himself that he begat him.'^ What of anguish does
this not add to the sweep of the gesture wherewith the hero
covered his face from the pedant's sword ! With the Cassar
The Sulla may stand the Marius, and the Sylla : Sulla the lucky man,
filix^ Epaphroditus, beloved of all women and the victor in
every fight, who ' when he was in his chiefest authoritie would
' commonly eate and drinke with the most impudent j casters
' and scoffers, and all such rake helles, as made profession
' of counterfeate mirth.' He laughed his way to complete
political success; he was fortunate even in the weather for his
funeral ; and, as he epitaphed himself, ' no man did ever passe
' him, neither in doing good to his friends, nor in doing mis-
The Lucullus ' chief to his enemies.' Plutarch's Lucullus, being young and
ambitious, marches further into the unknown East than any
Roman had ventured. He fords the river on foot with the
countless hosts of Tigranes on the farther shore, ' himselfe the
' foremost man,' and marches ' directly towardes his enemy,

^ Brutus.

xlviii

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

'armed with an "anima" of Steele, made with scalloppe INTRO-
' shelles, shining like the sunne/ He urges on through DUCTION
summer and winter, till the rivers are ' congealed with ice,""
so that no man can ' passe over by forde : for they did no
' sooner enter but the ise brake and cut the vaines and

* sinews of the horse legges.' His men murmur, but he
presses on : till ' the country being full of trees, woddes
' and forestes,"* they are ' through wet with the snow that
' fell upon them,"* and at last they mutiny and flatly refuse
to take another step into the unknown. This is a Lucullus
we forget. Plutarch gives the other one as well, and the two
together make for him ' an auncient comedy ,"* the beginning
whereof is tedious, but the latter end — with its ' feasts and
' bankets,"" ' masks and mummeries,' and ' dauncing with
' torches,"* its ' fine built chambers and high raised turrets
' to gaze a farre, environed about with conduits of water "* ;
its superlative cook, too, and its ' library ever open to all
' comers'* — is a matter to rejoice the heart of man. Crassus
and Cicero complete his group of second-bests : Cicero
' dogge ieane,"* and ' a little eater,** ' so earnest and vehement
' in his oration that he mounted still with his voyce into the
' highest tunes : insomuch that men were affrayed it would

' one day put him in hazard of his life.' Here I may pause to Oratory
note that Plutarch's references to public speaking are all ob-
served. He writes from experience, and you might compile a
manual of the art from him. Well did he know the danger
of fluent earnestness. His Caius Gracchus ' had a servant

* . , . who, with an instrument of musicke he had . . . ever
' stoode behind him ; and when he perceived his Maistcr"'s
' voyce was a little too lowde, and that through choller he
' exceeded his ordinary speache, he played a soft stoppe be-
' hind him, at the sonde whereof Caius immediately fell from
' his extreamitie and easilie came to himself againe."* Thus,
too, his Demosthenes and Cicero sets forth full instructions
for removing every other blemish of delivery.^

The painter of incident is scarce less great than the The Painter
painter of men. Plutarch''s picture of Cicero is completed of Incident
by a presentment of his death, in which the artist'*s imagi-
^ See also his account of the several manners of Cleon and Pericles.

g xlix

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

INTRO-
DUCTION

and his
Devices

nation rises to its full height. Hunted down by Antony's
swordcrs, the orator is overtaken at night in a by-lane ;

Baclcgrounds

Restraint

Instancy

Peculiar
Alaaric

he stretches out his head from the litter to look his
murderers in the face ; and ' his head and his beard
' being all white, and his face leane and wrinckled, for
' the extreame sorrowes he had taken, divers of them that
' were by held their handes before their eyes, whilest Heren-

* nius did cruelly murder him."* Then the head was set up
by Antony ' over the pulpit for orations,** and ' this was a
' fearefull and horrible sight unto the Romanes, who thought
' they saw not Ciceroes face, hut an image of Antonius life

* and dispositions "" (Amyot : une image de Vame et de la
nature d' Antonius). This gift, at times almost appalling, of
imaginative presentment, is the distinctive note of Plutarch''s
art. He uses it freely in his backgrounds, which are ani-
mated as are those in certain pictures of a bygone mode ; so
that behind his heroes armies engage, fleets are sunk, towns
are sacked, and citadels escaladed. Sometimes his effect is
produced by a rare restraint. In the Alcibiades, for instance,
he tells how the Sicilian expedition was mooted which was to
ruin both the hero and his country ; and, as Carlyle might
have done, at the corner of every street he shows you the
groups of young men bragging of victory, and drawing plans
of Syracuse in the dust. Sometimes the touch of terror is
more immediate. Take his description of the Teutons fi;om
the Marius. Their voices were 'wonderful both straunge
' and beastly ' ; so Marius kept his men close till they should
grow accustomed to such dreadful foes. Meanwhile the
Teutons ' were passing by his campe six dayes continually

* together ** : ' they came raking by,' and ' marching all to-
' gether in good array ; making a noyse with their harness
' all after one sorte, they oft rehearsed their own name,
^ Ambrons, Ambrons, Ambrons'' ; and the Romans watched
them, listening to the monotonous, unhuman call. Here
and elsewhere Plutarch conveys, with a peculiar magic, the
sense of great bodies of men and of the movements thereof.
Now and then he secures his end by reporting a word or
two from those that are spying upon others from afar.
This is how he gives the space and silence that precede a

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

battle. Tigranes, with his innumerable host, is watching INTRO-
Lucullus and the Romans, far away on the farther shore DUCT I ON
of the river. ' They seemed but a handful,"* and kept
' following the streame to meete with some forde. . . .
' Tigranes thought they had marched away, and called Tigranes and
' for Taxiles, and sayd unto him, laughing : " Dost thou LucuUus
' " see, Taxiles, those goodly Roman legyons, whom thou
' " praisest to be men so invincible, how they flie away now ? ''"'
' Taxiles answered the king againe : " I would your good
' " fortune (O king) might work some miracle this day : for
' " doubtless it were a straunge thing that the Romanes
' " should flie. They are not wont to wear their brave cotes
' " and furnitm-e uppon their armour, when they meane onely
' " but to marche in the fieldes : neither do they carie their
' " shieldes and targets vmcased, nor their burganets bare
' " on their heades, as they do at this present, having throwen
' " away their leather cases and coveringes. But out of
' " douiit, this goodly furniture we see so bright and giitter-
' " i7ig in our Jhces, is a manifest sign that they intend to
' " fight, and that they marche towardes us." Taxiles had
' no sooner spoken these loorcles, but Liicidhis^ in tlie vieio
' of his enernies, made his ensign bearer to turne sodainely
' that carried the Jirst Eagle, and the bands tooke their
' places to passe the river in order of battell.'' The propor-
tion of the two armies, and the space between ; the sun
flashing on the distant shields ; the long suspense ; the king's
laugh breaking the silence, which yet gi'ows tenser, till
suddenly the Romans wheel into line : in truth, they have
been few between Plutarch and Tolstoi to give the scale
and perspective of battles by observing such proportion
in their art ! Here LucuUus and a handful of Romans,
like Clive and his Englishmen, overthrew a nation in arms ;
elsewhere Plutarch gives the other chance, and renders
with touches equally subtle and direct the deepening
nightmare of Crassus' march into the desert. He tells of Crassus in
the Parthian 'kettle di'ommes, hollow within,"" and hung Parthia
about with ' little bells and copper rings,"* with which ' they
' all made a noise everywhere together, and it is like a dead
' sounde.' Does it not recall the Aztec war-drums on the

li

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

INTRO- Noche Triste ? Intent, too, on creating his impression of
DUCT I ON terror, this rare artist proceeds from the sense of hearing to
the sense of sight. ' The Romanes being put in feare with this
' dead sounde, the Parthians straight threw the clothes and
' coverings from them that hid their armour, and then
' showed their bright helmets and cui'aces of Margian
' tempered steele, that glared like fire ; and their horses
' barbed with steele and copper.' They canter round and
round the wretched enemy, shooting their shafts as they
go ; and the ammunition never fails, for camels come up
' loden with quivers full of arrowes.' The Romans are shot
through one by one ; and when Crassus ' prayed and be-
' sought them to charge . . . they showed him their handes
' fast nailed to their targets with arrowes, and their feete
' likewise shot thorow and nailed to the ground : so as they
' could neither flie, nor yet defende themselves.' Thus they
died, one before the other, ' a cruell lingring death, crying
' out for anguish and paine they felt ' ; and ' turning and
' tormenting themselves upon the sande, they broke the
' arrowes sticking in them."* The realism of it ! And the
pathos of Crassus' speech, when his son's head is shown to him,
which ' killed the Romanes hartes ' ! ' The grief and sorrow
' of this losse (my fellowes),' said he, ' is no man's but mine,
' mine only ; but the noble successe and honor of Rome
' remaineth still invincible, so long as you are yet living.'
After these two pictures of confidence and defeat I should
After Pydna like to give that one of the Romans after Pydna, where
Paulus ^milius was thought to have lost his son. It is a
wonderful resurrection of departed life. There are the groups
round the camp-fires ; the sudden clustering of torches
towards the one dark and silent tent ; and then the busy
lights crossing and recrossing, and scattering over the field.
You hear first the droning songs of the tired and happy
soldiers ; then silence ; then cries of anxiety and mournful
echoes ; then, of a sudden, comes the reappearance, ' all
' bloudied with new bloude like the swift-running grey
' hound fleshed with the bloude of the hare,' of him, the
missing youth, ' that Scipio which afterwards destroyed
* both the citties of Carthage and Numantium.'
hi

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

It is hard to analyse the art, for the means employed are INTRO-
of the simplest ; yet it is certain that they do recall to such DUCTION
as have known, and that they must suggest to others who
have not, those sights and sounds and sensations which
combine into a special enchantment about the time of the
fall of darkness upon bodies of men who have drunk excite-
ment and borne toil together in the day. How intense,
too, the flash of imagination with which the coming Afri-
canus is projected on the canvas ! And the book abounds
in such lightning impressions. Thus, Hannibal cracks a
soldier"'s joke before Cannae ; he pitches the quip into his Hannibal's
host, like a pebble into the pond ; and the broken still- "^^^^
ness ripples away down all the ranks in widening rings of
laughter.^ Sometimes the sketch is even slighter, and is
yet convincing : as when the elder Scipio, being attacked
by Cato for his extravagant administration, declares his
' intent to go to the wars with full sayles.'' These are not
chance effects but masterstrokes of imagination ; yet that
imagination, vivid and vivifying as it is, never leads Plu-
tarch to attempt the impossible. He remains the supreme
artist, and is content with suggesting — what is incapable
of representation — that sense of the portentous, the over-
powering, which is apparent immediately before, or im-
mediately behind, some notable conjunction. Alexander Alexander at
sounds the charge which is to change the fortunes of the Arbela
world, and Arbela is rendered in a few lines. But up
till the instant of his sounding it, you are told of his every
act. Plutarch, proceeding as leisurely as his hero, creates
suspense out of delay. You are told that Alexander slept
soundly far into the morning, and that he was called three
times. You are told how carefully he dressed, and of
each article of armour and apparel he put on : his ' Sicilian
' cassocke,"* his ' brigandine of many foldes of canvas,' ' his
* head peece bright as silver,' and ' his coller sute like to
' the same all set full of precious stones."" The battle has
begun between the outposts, and he is still riding down
the lines on a hack : ' to spare Bucephal, because he was
' then somewhat olde.' He mounted the great horse ' always
^ Fabius Maxinius.

liii

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

INTRO-
DUCTION

Suspense out
of Delay

After the
Rubicon

Leuctra

' at the last moment ; and as soone as he was gotten up on
' his backe, the trumpet sounded, and he gave charge.' To-
day it is made to seem as if that moment would never come ;
but at the last all things being ready, ' he tooke his launce
' in his left hande and, holding up his right hande unto
' heaven, besought the goddes . . . that if it were true, he
' was begotten of Jupiter, it would please them that day
' to helpe him and to incorage the Graecians. The sooth-
' sayer Aristander was then a-horsebacke hard by Alex-

* ander apparelled all in white, and a croune of gold on
' his head, who shewed Alexander when he made his
' prayer, an Eagle flying over his head, and pointing
' directly towards his enemies. This marvellously en-
' couraged all the armie that saw it, and with this joy,

* the men of armes of Alexander's side, encouraging one

* another, did set spurres to their horse to charge upon the
' enemies.' Until the heroic instant you are compelled to
note the hero's every deliberate movement. He and the
little group of gleaming figures about him are the merest
specks in the plain before the Macedonian army, itself but
a handful in comparison to the embattled nations in front.
The art is perfect in these flash-pictures of great moments
in time : in the Athenians map-drawing in the dust, in
the Romans watching the Ambrons raking by, in Tigranes'
laugh, in Hannibal's joke, in Alexander's supreme gesture ;
and how instant in each the imaginative suggestion of drag-
ging hours before rapid and irreparable events ! Equally
potent are the effects which Plutarch contrives by revealing
all the consequences of a disaster in some swift, far-reach-
ing glimpse. Thus, when Caesar crossed the Rubicon,
' Rome itself was filled up with the flowing repaire of all
' the people who came thither like droves of cattell.'' And
thus does Sparta receive the news of her annihilation : — ' At
' that time there was by chance a common feast day in the
' citie . . . when as the messenger arrived that brought the

* news of the battell lost at Leuctres. The Ephori knowing
' then that the rumor ranne all about ; that they were all

* undone, and how they had lost the signorie and com-
' maundement over all Grece : would not suffer them for

liv

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

' all this to breake off tiieir daunce in the Theater, nor the INTRO-

' citie in anything to chaunge the forme of their feast, but DUCTION

* sent unto the parentes to everie man"'s house, to let them

' understande the names of them that were slaine at the

' battell, they themselves remaining still in the Theater to

' see the daunces and sportes continued, to judge who

' carried the best games away. The next morning when

' everie man knew the number of them that were slaine, and

' of those also that escaped : the parentes and frendes of

' them that were dead, met in the market place, looking

' cheerfully of the matter, and one of them embraced

' another. On thother side the parentes of them that

' scaped, kept their houses with their wives, as folk that

' mourned. . . . The mothers of them, that kept their

' sonnes which came from the battell, were sad and sorrow-

' full, and spake not a word. Contrairily, the mothers of

' them that were slaine, wcmt friendly to visite one another,

' to rejoyce together.'' ^ There is no word of the fight. As

Thackeray gives you Waterloo in a picture of Brussels, so

Plutarch gives you Leuctra, and with more of beauty and

pathos, in a picture of Sparta. Of the Roman defeat at Cannae and

Cannae there is a full and wonderful account ; but what an After

effective touch is added when ' the Consul Terentius Varro

' returning backe to Rome, with the shame of his extreame

' misfortune and overthrowe, that he durste not looke upon

' any man : the Senate notwithstanding, and all the peoj)le

^Jbllowing them, tvent to the gates of the cittie to mecte Mm,

' and dyd honourably receyve him '' !

In these passages Plutarch, following the course of Greek His Choice
tragedy, and keeping the action off the stage, gives the of Occasions
reverberation and not the shock of fate ; but in many
others the stark reality of his painting is its own sufficient
charm. He abounds in unfamiliar aspects of familiar places :
places he invests with (as it were) the magic born of a wan-
dering son''s return. Here is his Athens in her decrepitude.
'The poore citie of Athens which had escaped from so
' many warres, tyrannies and civil dissensions,"' is now
besieged by Sulla without, and oppressed by the tyrant

^ Agesilaus.

Iv

INTRO
DUCTION

Sulla before
Athens

Marcellus

before

Syracuse

Breathless
Moments

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

Aristion within ; and in his presentment of her condition
there is, surely, a foreshadowing of those dark ages when
historic sites became the scenes of new tragedies that were
merely brutal and insignificant. At Athens ' men were driven

* for famine to eate feverfew that grew about the castell ' ;
also, they ' caused old shoes and old oyle pots to be sodden
' to deliver some savor unto that which they did eate,"*
Meanwhile 'the tyrant himselfe did nothing all day long
' but cramme in meat, drinke dronke, daunce, maske, scoiF
' and flowte at the enemies (suffering the holy lampe of

* Minerva to go out for lacke of oyle)."" Is there not a
grimness of irony about this picture of the drunken and
sinister buffoon sitting camped in the Acropolis, like a
toad in a ruined temple, ' magnifying the dedes of Theseus
' and insulting the priestes "* ? At last the Roman enters
' the city about midnight with a wonderfull fearefuU order,
' making a marvellous noise with a number of homes and
' sounding of trompets, and all his army with him in
' order of battell, crying, " To the sack, to the sack :
' " Kill, kill." ' ^ A companion picture is that of a Syra-
cuse Thucydides never knew.^ Archimedes is her sole de-
fence ; and thanks to him, the Roman ships are ' taken
' up with certaine engines fastened within one contrary to
' an other, which made them turne in the ayer like a
' whirlegigge, and so cast them upon the rockes by the
' towne walles, and splitted them all to fitters, to the
' great spoyle and murder of the persons that were within
' them."' Elsewhere the Mediterranean pirates, polite as
our own highwaymen, are found inviting noble Romans
to walk the plank ; ^ for Plutarch never misses a romantic
touch. Some of his strongest realisations are of moments
when fate hangs by a ' hair : as that breathless and de-
sperate predicament of Aratus and his men on their ladders
against the walls of Sicyon ; with the ' curste curres ' that
would not cease from barking ; the captain of the watch
' visiting the soldiers with a little bell ' ; ' the number of
'torches and a great noyse of men that followed him'; the
great greyhound kept in a little tower, which began to answer

^ Sylla. * Marcellus. ^ Pompey.

Ivi

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

the curs at large 'with a soft girning: but when they came INTRO-
' by the tower where he lay, he barked out alowde, that all DUCTION
' the place thereabouts rang of his barking ' ; the ladders
shaking and bowing ' by reason of the weight of the men,
' unless they did come up fayer and softly one after another,'
till at last, ' the cocks began to crowe, and the country folke
' that brought things to the market to sell, began to come apace
' to the townie out of every quarter,'' ^ Later in the same
life you have the escalading of the Acrocorinthus : when
Aratus and the storming party, with their shoes off, being
lost on the slopes, ' sodainely, even as it had been by miracle,
' the moone appearing through the clowdes, brought them to
' that part of the wall where they should be, and straight the
' moone was shadowed againe ' ; so they cut down the
watch, but one man escaped, and ' the trompets forthwith
' sounded the alarom ... all the citie was in an uprore,
' the streets were straight full of people running up and
' downe, and of lights in every comer."" Plutarch's manage-
ment of light, I should remark, is always astonishingly real ; Light in
he never leaves the sun or the moon out of his picture, nor Plutarch
the incidence of clouds and of the dust of battle. Thus
varied his smishine leaps and wavers on distant armour, or
glares at hand from Margian steel ; or his moonlight glints
on a spear, and fades as the wrack races athwart the sky.

It is all the work of an incomparable painter ; there is any
amount of it in the Parallel Lives •^'^ and, like his portraits
and his landscapes,^ it has an aesthetic value which sets it far The Value of
in front of his moral reflections. For value depends, in part, his Art
on supply ; and of this kind of art there is less in literature
than there is of ethical disquisition. Moreover, in the
Parallel Lives the proportions are reversed, and the volume

^ Aratus.

^ See the rousing of Greece in the Philopamen ; the declaration of
Uberty in the Flaminius ; the squadron of the Lacedemonians at Plataea in
the Aristides ; the glimpse of Philip at Chaeronea gazing at the ' Holy Band
' of Thebans all dead on the grounde ' in the Pelopidas ; the first ride of
Alexander on Bucephalus in the Alexander ; the Macedonians at Pydna in
the Pauhts ^milius.

* See the country of the Cimbri in the Marius, and the campaigns of
Lucullus and Crassus.

h Ivii

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

INTRO-
DUCTION

The

Plutarchian

World

of Pliitarch''s paintinrij is very much crreater than the vokime
of Plutarch's moraHties. And in addition to vokune, there
is charm. His pictures have kept their ' flourishing fresh-
' ness "* untarnished through the ages ; whereas his moral say-
ings, being sound, have long since been accepted, and, as I
said, are grown stale. His morality is ours ; but he had an
unique opportunity for depicting the politics, the person-
alities, and the activity of a world which had passed away.
A little earlier, and he might have laboured like Thucy-
dides, but only at a part of it. A little later, and much
would have perished which he has set down and saved.
He paints it as a whole, and on that account is some-
times slighted for a compiler of legends ; yet he had the
advantage of personal contact with those legends while
they were still alive ; and again and again, as you read,
this contact strikes with a pleasant shock. To illustrate
his argument he will refer, by the way, to the statue of The-
mistocles in the Temple of Artemis ; to the effigies of Lucullus
at Chaeronea ; to the buildings of Pericles in their divinely
protracted youth. The house of Phocion at Melita, and
the ' cellar "■ in which Demosthenes practised his oratory, were
' whole even to my time.' The descendants of the soldier
who slew Epaminondas are, ' to this day," known and dis-
tinguished by the name ' machceriones."' ^ On the battle-
field of Chaeronea ' there was an olde oke seene in my time
' which the country men commonly called Alexander's oke,
' bicause his tent or pavilion was fastened to it.' ^ His
grandfather Nicarchus had told him how the defeat of
Antony relieved his natal city from a requisition for corn.^
From his other grandfather, Lamprias, he heard of a
physician, his friend, who, ' being a young man desirous to
' see things,' went over Cleopatra's kitchen with one of
Antony's cooks ; and there, among ' a world of diversities of
' meates,' encountered with the 'eight wild boares, rosted
' whole,' which have passed bodily into Shakespeare. This
contact was rarely immediate ; but it was personal, and it is
therefore quickening. At its touch a dead world lived again
for Plutarch, and by his art that dead world lives for us ;

' A,^esilaus. * Alexander. ^ Aiitovius.

Iviii

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

SO that in the Lives^ as in no other book, all antiquity, alike in INTRO-
detail and in expanse, lies open and revealed to us, ' flat as to an DUCTION
' eagle"'s eye/ We may study it closely, and see it whole ;
and to do so is to dispossess the mind of many illusions
fostered by books of a narrower scope. Juvenal, the satirist, Juvenal and
and Petronius, the arbiter of a mode, do not even pretend to Petronius
show forth the whole of life ; yet from their works, and from
others of a like purview, men have constructed a fanciful
world of unbounded cruelty and immitigable lust. This
same disproportion between premise and conclusion runs
through the writing of many moderns : j ust as from the
decoration of a single chamber at Pompeii there have been
evoked whole cities, each in the image of a honeycomb
whose cells are hipanaria. Even so some archaeologist of the
future might take up an obscene gurgoyle, and transfigure
Christianity to its image ! This antiquity of cruelty and
lust has been evolved for censure by these, and by those for
praise ; yet if Plutarch be not the most collossal, taking,
and ingenious among the world's liars, we cannot choose but
hold that it never existed. For, apart from the coil of
politics and the clamour and romance of adventure, his book
discovers us the religious and the home lives of old-time
Italy and Greece ; and we find them not dissimilar from our
own. We see them, it is true, with the eyes of a kindly and a
moderate man. Yet he was no apologist, with a case to plead ;
and if we may be sure that he was never uncharitable, we
may be equally sure that he extenuated nothing. He
censures freely conduct which, according to the extreme
theory of ancient immorality, should scarce have excited his
surprise ; and he alludes, by the way, in a score of places, to
a loving-kindness, extending even to slaves and animals, of
which, according to the same theory, he could have known
nothing, since its very existence is denied. The State was The State and
more than it is now ; but you cannot glean that the Family the Family
was less, even in Sparta. Shakespeare took from Plu-
tarch the love of Coriolanus for his mother, and found in it a
sufficient motive for his play. But Veturia^ is by no
means the only beloved mother in the Lives, nor is Corio-

* Shakespeare's Volumnia.

lix

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

INTRO- lanus the only adoring son. Epaminondas thought himself
DUCTION 'most happy and blessed' because his father and mother
had lived to see the victoiy he won ; ^ and Sertorius, making
The Mother overtures for peace, said he had ' rather be counted the
' meanest citizen in Rome, than being a banished man to be
' called Emperor of the world,' and the ' chiefest cause . . .
' was the tender love he bare unto his mother.'^ When
Antipater submitted to Alexander certain well-founded
accusations against Olympiads misgovemment : ' " Loe,"" said
' he, " Antipater knoweth not, that one teare of the mothers
' " eye will wipe out tenne thousande such letters." ' ^ In face
of the parting between Cratesiclea and her son Cleomenes,
one may doubt if in Sparta itself the love between mother
and son was more than dissembled ; for, on the eve of his
sailing, ' she took Cleomenes aside into the temple of
' Neptune and imbracinge and kissinge him ; perceivinge
' that his harte yerned for sorrowe of her departure, she
' sayed unto him : " O kinge of Lacedaemon, lette no man see
' " for shame when we come out of the temple, that we have
' " wept and dishonoured Sparta."" ' Indeed, the national love
of Spartans for all children born to Sparta seems to have
been eked out by the fonder and the less indifferent affec-
tion of each parent for his own. If in battle Henri Quatre
played Alexander, in the nursery his model was Agesilaus,
The Child ' who loved his children deerely : and would play with
' them in his home when they were little ones, and ride
' upon a little cocke horse or a reede, as a horseback.' *
Paulus ^milius being ' appointed to make warre upon
' King Perseus, all the people dyd honorably companie him
' home unto his house, where a little girl (a daughter of his)
' called Tertia, being yet an infant, came weeping unto her
' father. He, making muche of her, asked her why she
' wept. The poore girl answered, colling him about the
' necke, and kissing him : — " Alas, father, wot you what ?
' " our Perseus is dead." She merit by it a litle wJielpe so
' called, which was her playe fillowe.'' Plutarch had lost his
own dauo-hter, and he wrote a letter of consolation to his

' Coriolanus.

Ix

Sertorius.

^ Alexander.

Agesilaus.

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

wife, which Montaigne gave to his wife when she was stricken INTRO-

with the same sorrow : ' bien marry,"" as he says, ' de quoy la DUCTION

' fortune vous a rendu ce present si propre." ^ In the Lives he

is ever most tender towards children, acknowledging the mere

possibility of their loss for an ever-abiding terror. ' Novve,"' he

writes in the Solon, ' we must not arme ourselves with poverty

' against the grief of losse of goodes; neither with lack of aftec-

' tion against the losse of our friendes ; neither with want of

' mariage against the death of children ; but we must be

' armed with reason against misfortune. "* Over and over

again you come upon proof of the love and the compassion

children had. At the triumph of the same ^milius, through

three days of such magnificence as Mantegna has displayed,

the eyes of Rome were all for Perseus'" children : ' when

' they sawe the poore little infants, that they knewe not the

* change of their hard fortune . . . for the compassion they

' had of them, almost let the father passe without looking The Father

' upon him." Of J^milius"* own sons, one had died five days

before, and the other three days survived, that triumph

for which the father had been given four hundred golden

diadems by the cities of Greece. But he pronounced their

funeral orations himself ' in face of the whole cittie . . . not

' like a discomforted man, but like one rather that dyd com-

' forte his sorrowfuU countrymen for his mischance. He

' told them ... he ever feared Fortune, mistrusting her

' change and inconstancy, and specially in the last warre.*"

But Rome had won ; and all was well, ' saving that

' Perseus yet, conquered as he is, hath this comforte left

' him : to see his children living, and that the conqueror

' iEmylius hath lost his."* This love between children and

parents might be expected in any picture of any society ;

yet it is conspicuous in the Parallel Lives as it is not, 1

believe, in any reconstruction of the Plutarchian world.

Note, too, the passionate devotion between brothers, dis- The Brother

played even by Cato of Utica,^ to the scandal of other

Stoics ; and note everywhere the loyal comradeship between

' Cruserius, who translated the Lives into Latin (1561), by a strange co-
incidence, mourned his daughter's loss and found consolation in his task.
^ Cato Utican.

Ixi

INTRO-
DUCTION

The Wife

Animals and
Slaves

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

husbands and wives. To Plutarch wedlock is so sacred that
he is fierce in denouncing a certain political marriage as
being ' cruell and tyrannicall, fitter for Sylla's time, rather
' than agreable to Pompey's nature.' ^ Perhaps the com-
monest view of antique morality is that which accepts a
family not unlike the family we know, but at the same time
denies the ancients all consideration for their domestic
animals and slaves. This tendency, it is thought, is a pro-
duct of Christianity ; and the example of the elder Cato is
sometimes quoted in proof of the view. But in Plutarch*'s
Cato, the Roman's habit of selling his worn-out slaves is
given for an oddity, for the exceptional practice of an eccentric
old man ; and Plutarch takes the occasion to expound his
own feeling. ' There is no reason,' he writes, ' to use livinge
' and sensible thinges as we would use an old shooe or a
' ragge : to cast it out upon the dongehill when we have
' worn it and it can serve us no longer. For if it were for no
' respect els but to use us alwayes to humanitie, we must ever
' showe ourselves kinde and gentle, even in such small poyntes
' of pitie. And as for me, I coulde never finde in my heart to
' sell my drawt oxe that hadde ploughed my land a long time,
' bicause he coulde plowe no longer for age.' Here we have a
higher standard of humanity than obtains in living England,
and it is a mistake to suppose, as some have done, that
it was peculiar to Plutarch. On the contrary, his book
is alive with illustrations of the same consideration for
domestic pets and beasts of service. A mule employed in
building a temple at Athens, used to ' come of herselfe to
' the place of labour ' : a docility, ' which the people liked so
' well in the poore beast, that they appointed she shoulde be
' kept whilest she lived, at the charge of the town.' How
many corporations, I wonder, would lay a like load on
the rates to-day ? In a score of passages is evidence of the
belief that ' gentleness goeth farther than justice.' ^ When
the Athenians depart from Attica, the most heartrending
picture is of the animals they leave deserted on the sea-coast.
' There was besides a certen pittie that made men's harts to
' yerne, when they saw the poore doggs, beasts, and cattell
^ Pompey. ^ Cato.

Ixii

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

' ronne up and dounc bleating, mouing, and howling out INTRO-

' alowde after their masters in token of sorrow when they DUCTION

' dyd imbark.'' Xantippus' dog, ' that swam after them to

' Salamis and dyed presently,' is there interred ; and ' they

' saye at this daye the place called the Doggs Grave is the

' very place where he was buried.' ^ With like honour the

mares of Cimon, who was fond of racing, are buried at his

side. Indeed, the ancients, far from being callous, were, as

some would now think, over-sentimental about their horses

and dogs. Having no slaves of our own, it is easy for us to

denounce slave-owning. But this is noteworthy : that while

Plutarch, the ancient, in dealing with the revolt of Spartacus

and his fellow-slaves, speaks only of ' the wickedness of their

' master,' and pities their hard lot, North, the modern, dubs

them ' rebellious rascalls^ ^ without a word of warrant either

in the nearer French or in the remoter Greek.

It is, indeed, far easier to pick up points of resemblance Plutarch's
than to discover material differences between the social life ^V'orld and
depicted by Plutarch and our own ; and the likeness extends '^'"^
even to those half- shades of feeling and illogical sentiment
which often seem peculiar to a generation. To turn from
contemporary life to the Parallel Lives, is to find everywhere
the same natural but inconsequent deference to birth amid
democratic institutions ; ^ the same belief that women have
recently won a freedom unknown to their grandmothers ; the
same self-satisfaction in new developments of culture ; the
same despair over the effects of culture on a pristine morality.
There are even iiTesistible appeals to the good old days.
Numa, for instance, ' enured women to speak little by for-
' bidding them to speak at all except in the presence of their
' husbands,' and with such success, that a woman ' chauncing
' one daye to pleade her cause in persone before the judges
' the Senate hearing of it, did send immediately unto the
' oracle of Apollo, to know what that did prognosticate to
' the cittie.' * Here was a beginning ; and the rest soon

^ Themistocles.

- Crassus.

'* See Themistocles as the rival of Cimon.

* Comparison of Au»ia Fompilitis with Lycutgus.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

INTRO-
DUCTION

Culture

The Greek
Influence

followed. Just as Greek historians had branded the first
murderers and parricides by name, even so ' the Romanes doe
' note . . . that the wife of one Pinarius, called Thaloea, was
' the first which ever brauled or quarrelled with her mother-
' in-law.' 1 That was in the days of Tarquin. By Pompey"'s
time — though he, indeed, was fortunate in a wife unspoiled
by her many accomplishments — the revolution is complete.
His Cornelia ' could play well on the harpe, was skilfull in
' musicke and geometric, and tooke great pleasure also in
' philosophic, and not vainly without some profit "" ; yet was
she ' very modest and sober in behaviour, without braul-
' ing and foolish curiosity, which commonly young women
' have, that are indued with such singular giftes."* Such a
woman was the product of the Greek culture, and for that
Plutarch has nothing but praise.^ It was first introduced,
he tells you, after the siege of Syracuse ; for Marcellus it
was who brought in ' fineness and curious tables,' ' pic-
' tures and statues,' to supplant the existing ' monu-
' ments of victories ' : things in themselves ' not pleasant, but
' rather fearfull sightes to look upon, farre unfit for femi-
nine eyes.' ^ In all this there is little that differs from the
life we know : you have the same facts and the same re-
flexions— especially the same reflexions. For our own age is
akin to the age of Plutarch, in so far as both are certain
centuries in rear of an influx of Hellenic ideas. Those ideas
reconquered the West in the fifteenth century ; and since
this second invasion the results of the first have been re-
peated in many directions. Certain phases, indeed, of
thought and feeling in Plutarch's age are re-echoed to-day
still more distinctly than in the world of his Renaissance
translators. For in remoteness from the point of first con-
tact with Greek influence, and in the tarnish of disillusion
which must inevitably discolour any prolonged development,
this century of ours is more nearly allied to Plutarch's than
the sixteenth was, with its young hope and unbounded enthu-
siasm. The older activity reminds you of the times which

^ Comparison of Numa Pompilius with Lycurgus.

^ See his defence of it in Cicero^ his attack on Cato for opposing it,
and passim. ^ Marcellus.

Ixiv

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

Plutarch painted ; the modern temper, of the times in which INTRO-
he wrote. DUCTION

But in the frail rope which the mind of man is ever weav-
ing, that he may cling to something in the void of his
ignorance, there is one strand which runs through all the
Plutarchian centuries ; which persists in his own age and on A Difference
into the age of his early translators ; but which in England
has been fretted almost through. Nobody can read the
Parallel Lives without remarkino; the signal change which
has fallen upon man's attitude towards the supernatural.
Everywhere in Plutarch, by way of both narrative and
comment, you find a confirmed belief in omens, portents,
and ghosts : not a pious opinion, but a conviction bulking
huge in everyday thought, and exerting a constant influence
on the ordinary conduct of life. Death and disaster, good
fortune and victory, never come without forewarning. Before Omens
great Caesar fell there were ' fires in the element . . . spirites
' running up and downe in the nighte "" and ' solitary birdes
' to be scene at noone dayes sittinge in the great market-
' place.' ^ Nor only before a great event, but also after it,
occur these sympathetic perturbations in the other world :
' the night being come, such things fell out, as maye be
' looked for after so terrible a battle.' ^ The w^ood quaked,
and a voice criod out of heaven ! AlHed to and alongside
of this belief in an Unseen in touch with the living: world
at every hour of the day-time and night, you have the
solemn practice of obscure rites and the habitual observance Rites and
of customs half-insignificant. Some of these are graceful ; Customs
others embaiTassing. The divination, for instance, of the
Spartan Ephors must often, at least in August and Novem-
ber, have shaken public confidence in the State; for they
' did sit downe in some open place, and beheld the stars in
' the element, to see if they saw any starre shoote from one
* place to another,' and ' if they did, then they accused tJwir
' king.'' 3 To us, this giving of the grotesque and the terrible
in the same breath, without distinction or comment, is
strangely incongruous. Sulla's bloody entry into Rome was
doubly foreshadowed : there was the antic disposition of

1 Julius CcBsar. - Publicola. ^ Agis and Cleomenes.

i Ixv

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

INTRO- certain rats, which first gnawed 'some juells of golde in a
DUCTION ' church,'' and then, being trapped by the 'sexton,** ate up
their young ; and again, ' when there was no cloude to be
' seen in the element at all, men heard such a sharp sound
' of a trompet, as they were almost out of their wits at so
' great a noise." ^ No scientific explanation, even if one were
forthcoming, could suffice to lull suspicion in a pious mind.
iEmilius understood as well as any the cause of the moon's
eclipse : ' nevertheless, he being a godly devout man, so soon
' as he perceyved the moone had recovered her former bright-

Dies nefasti ' ness againe,he sacrificed eleven calves/^ To add to the incon-
venience of this habit of mind, there were more unlucky days
in the year than holidays in the mediaeval calendar. It was
such a day that marred the prospect of Alcibiades"" return :
for ' there were some that misliked very much the time of
' his landing : saying it was very unluckie and imfortunate.
' For the very day of his returne, fell out by chaunce on the
' feast which they call Plynteria, as you would saye, the
' washing day.'^ Such feasts, with their half-meaningless

Festivals customs, accompanied the belief in portents and ghosts and

the ordinary forms of ritual, being but another fruit of the
same intellectual habit. Some of them seem absm'd ana-
chronisms in the Rome of Julius Caesar, At the Lupercal,
for instance, even in Caesar's day, as every one knows from
Shakespeare, young men of good family still ran naked
through the streets, touching brides at the request of their
husbands.* Again, on the feast of the goddess Matuta,
' they cause a chamber mayde to enter into her temple, and
' there they boxe her about the eares. Then they put her
' out of the temple, and do embrace their brothers' children
' rather than their own.' ^ There is no end to these customs :
customs which are as it were costumes of the mind, partly
devised to cover its nakedness, and partly expressed in fancy.
Plutarch tries sometimes to explain their origin ; but he can
only hazard a guess. Nobody remembers what they mean.
They are, rather, a picturesque means of asserting that there
really is an undercurrent of meaning in the world.

Ixvi

Sylla. " Patilus ^miliiis.

* Julius CcEsar.

' Alcibiades.
Furius Camillus.

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

Beyond and above these mummeries, now so strange, in a INTRO-
loftier range of Plutarch''s thought is much that is famihar DUCTION
and near. Of some miracles he writes almost as an apologist.
It is said that ' images . . . have been heard to sighe : that they
' have turned : and that they have made certen signes with
' their eyes.' These reports ' are not,' he adds, ' incredible,
' nor lightly to be condemned. But for such matters it is
' daungerous to give too much credit to them, as also to dis-
' credit them too much, by reason of the weaknes of man's
' nature, which hath no certen bomides, nor can rule itself,
' but ronneth sometimes to vanitie and superstition, and
' otherwhile also despiseth and condemneth holy and divine
' matters.' ^ On such points of belief, as on the immediate
inspiration of individuals, ' the waye is open and large ' : ^
each must decide for himself, remembering that religion is God in
the mean between superstition and impiety. On the other Plutarch
hand, never once does Plutarch admit a doubt of the Divine
Government of the world. He approves his Alexander's
saying : 'that God generally was father to all mortall men.'^
And in a magnificent passage of North's English which might
almost have come out of the book of Common Prayer, he
upholds the view of Pythagoras : ' who thought that God was
' neither sensible nor mortall, but invisible, incorruptible
and only intelligible.' ^

III

In substance, then, the book stands alone. Its good Two Trans-
fortune has been also unexampled. By a chance this lators
singular image of the ancient world has been happy beyond
others in the manner of its transmission to our time. To

^ Furins Camilliis. " Ntima Ponipilius.

^ Alexander, Cf. Plutarch's Morals, Phil. Holland, 1657 : the eighth
book of Symposiaques ; the first question, p. 628.

■* In the Brutus North credits its hero with a declaration of belief in
another life. But this is a mistranslation of Amyot's French. We know, how-
ever, with what passionate conviction Plutarch held this belief in ' a better
' place, and a happier condition,' from the conclusion of his ' consolatory
' letter, sent unto his own wife, as touching the death of her and his
' daughter.' — Morals^ Phil. Holland, 1657, p. 442.

Ixvii

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

INTRO- quote a Quarterly Reviewer:^ 'There is no other case of an
DUCTION ' ancient writer — whether Greek or Latin — becoming as well
' known in translations as he was in the classical world, or as
' great modern writers are in the modern one '' ; and for this
chance we have to thank one man, Jaques Amyot. But for
his version we should have received none from North ; and
without these two, Plutarch must have remained sealed to all
but Greek scholars. For the Daciers and the Langhornes
could never have conquered in right of their own impoverished
prose. They palmed it off on a public still dazzled by the
fame wherewith their forerunners had illuminated the Lives \
and when these were ousted from recollection, their own fate
became a simple matter of time.
Jaques The son of a butcher,^ or a draper,^ Jaques Amyot was

Amyot born at Melun in 1513, and was sent as a boy by his parents

to study at Paris. You find him there at fifteen, at Cardinal
Lemoine''s college, and two yeai's later following the lectures
of Thusan and Danes. For the University, still hide-bound
in scholastic philosophy, was nothing to his purpose of
mastering Greek. It was hard in those years, even for the
rich, to find books in Greek character,* and Amyot must
live on the loaves his mother sent him by the river barges,
and wait for a pittance on his fellow-students. Yet he
toiled on with romantic enthusiasm, reading by the firelight
for lack of candles ; till at last he knew all they could teach
him, and left Paris to become a tutor at Bourges. There,
thanks to Marguerite de NavaiTe,^ he obtained a chair in the
University, whence he lectm'ed twice a day on Greek and
Latin letters during twelve years. It was in these years
that he began his great work as a translator : completing in
all probability the Ethiopian History,^ and the more famous

^ Vol. ex., No. 220, p. 459, Oct. 1861. Apparently Archbishop Trench.

^ Brantome.

^ Blignieres. According to another, parentibus honestis fnagis qjia??i
copiosis.

■* Before 1530 only a few Homeric Hymns and some essays of Plutarch had
been published.

^ The Marguerite of The Hcptameron.

^ Published in 1547 with an interesting passage in the proem : ' Et n'avoit
' ce livre jamais este imprime, sinon depuis que la librairie du roi Matthias

Ixviii

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

Daphnis and Chloe} But, at the instance of Marguerite''s INTRO-

brother, Francois i., he also began the Lives, receiving by DUCTION

way of incentive the Abbacy of Bellozane ;^ and to prosecute

this purpose, soon after the king''s death, he made a scholar's

pilgrimage to Italy. In the Library of St. Mark at Venice

he rediscovered the Lives of Diodorus Siculus ; ^ in the

Library of the Vatican a more perfect ms. of the Ethiopian

History. But search as he might during his two years' stay

at Rome, he could never recover the missing lives of Plutarch.

He laboured on the text, but those which /' injurie du temps

nous avoit enviSes,^ were gone past retrieving. On his return

the scholar became a courtier, in the castles of the Loire, and

something of a diplomat; for he acted as the emissary of

Henri ii. at the Council of Trent, playing an inconspicuous

part grossly exaggerated by De Thou. In 1554 he was

appointed tutor to the young princes who were to rule as

Charles ix. and Henri iii. In 1559 he published the Lives ; First Edition

the next yeai-, on the accession of his elder pupil, he was made of the Vies

Grand Almoner of France ; and in 1570 he became Bishop

of Auxerre. In 1572 he published the Morals:, but this

book, like the Frangiade, published in the same year, fell

comparatively dead. The halcyon days of scholars and poets

ended with the St. Bartholomew ; and thenceforward the

darkness deepened over these two and all the brilliant

company which had gathered round Catherine and Diane de

Poictiers. In 1588 the full fury of the Catholic League fell

upon Amyot, for standing by his king after the murder of

the Guise. His diocese revolted at the instigation of Claude

Trahy, a truculent monk ; and the last works he published

are his Apology and Griefs des Plaintes. In August 1589

he wrote to the Due de Nivernais : ' Je suis le plus afflige,

' Corvin fut saccagee, au quel sac il se trouva un soldat allemant qui mit la
' main dessus pour ce qu'il le vit richement estofe, et le vendit a celuy qui
' depuys le fit imprimer en Allemaigne. '

^ Published without his name as late as 1559. As tutor to the young
princes he seems to have entertained a certain scruple, which even led him to
suppress one passage in his translation.

^ 1546. The last benefice bestowed by Frangois.

2 Of which he translated and published seven in 1554.

■* Amyot : Atix Ledeiirs.

Ixix

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

INTRO- ' destruit et ruine pauvre prebstre qui, comme je crois, soit en

DUCTION ' France'; in 1591 he was divested of his dignities ;i and in

1593 he died. His long life reflects the changing features of

his time. In youth he was a scholar accused of scepticism,

in old age a divine attacked for heresy, and for some pleasant

years between, a courtier pacing with poets and painters the

long galleries of Amboise and Chenonceaux : as we may

think, well within earshot of those wide bay-^vindows where the

daughters of France 'entourees de leurs gouvernantes et

' filles d'honneur, s'edifioient grandement aux beaux dits des

' Grecs et des Romains, rememoriez par le doulx Plutarchus.' ^

He was, then, a scholar touched with the wonder of a

L^' time which saw, as in Angelo's Last Judgment^ the great

works of antiquity lifting their limbs from the entombing

dust of oblivion ; and he was a courtier behind the scenes in

His Accuracy a great age of political adventure. Was he also an accurate
translator ? According to De Thou, he rendered his original
'majore elegantia quam fide'; according to Meziriac,^ he
was guilty of two thousand blunders.* The verdict was
agreeable to the presumption of the seventeenth century,
and was, of course, confirmed by the eighteenth ; but it has
been revised. Given the impossibility of finding single
equivalents in the young speech of the Renaissance, for the
literary and philosophic connotations of a language labom-ed
during six hundred years ; and given the practice of choosing
without comment the most plausible sense of a corrupted
passage, the better opinion seems to be that Amyot lost
little in truth, and gained ever}i;hing in charm. ' It is sur-
' prising,' says Mr. Long,^ and his word shall be the last, ' to
' find how correct this old French translation generally is.'

His Style The question of style is of deeper importance. Upon this
Ste.-Beuve acutely remarks^ that the subtlety of Plutarch,
as of Augustine, and the artless good-nature of Amyot belong
each to its age ; and, further, are more apparent to us than

^ Grand Almoner and Librarian of the Royal Library.
- Brantome.

^ Who undertook to translate Plutarch, but failed to do so.
* Discours de la Traduction, 1635 (cf. Blignieres, p. 435).
5 Plutarch's Lives', Aubrey Stewart, M.A., and the late George Long,
M.A., 18S0, vol. i. p. xvii. ^ Causeries du Lundi, iv, 469.

Ixx

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

real in their authors. We may say, indeed, without extrava- INTRO-
gance, that the youth of Amyofs style, modifying the age DUCTION
of Plutarch's, achieves a mean in full and natural harmony
with Plutarch's matter. In Amyot's own opinion, so great
a work must appeal to all men of judgment ' en quelque style
' qu'il soit mis, pourveu qu'il s'entende ' ; ^ yet his preoccupa-
tion on this point was punctilious. He found in Plutarch
a ' scabreuse asperite ' — ' epineuse et ferree ' are Montaigne's
epithets — ^yet set himself ' a representer aucunement et a His Aim in
' adumbrer la forme de style et maniere de parler d'iceluy ' : ^ Translation
apologising to any who on that account should find his
language less ' coulant ' than of yore. But Amyot was no
pedant ; he would render his original, not ape him ; he
would write French, and not rack it. He borrowed at need
from Greek and Italian, but he was loyal to his own tongue.
' Nous prendrons,' said he — and the canon is unimpeachable —
'les mots qui sont les plus propres pour signifier la chose
' dont nous voulons parler, ceux qui nous sembleront plus
' doux, qui sonneront le mieux a Toreille, qui seront cou-
' tumierement en la bouche des bien parlants, qui seront
' bons fran^ois et non etrangers."" To render late Greek into
early French is not easy ; so he takes liis time. Not a word
is there save to further his conquest of Plutarch's meaning ;
but all his words are marshalled in open order, and they pace at
leisure. For his own great reward Montaigne wTote: ' Je donne His Results
' la palme avecque raison, ce me semble, a Jaques Amyot, sur
' tons nos escripvains Francois ' ; and he remains the earliest
classic accepted by the French Academy. But for our delight
he found Plutarch a language which could be translated into
Elizabethan English.

If Amyot was the right man for Plutai'ch, North was the Sir Thomas
right man for Amyot. He was born the second and yoimgest ^^^h
son of Edward, first Baron North, about the year 1535, and
educated, in all probability, at Peterhouse, Cambridge.^ His
father was one of those remarkable men of law who, through
all the ranging political and religious vicissitudes under

^ Dedication to Henri il. - Aux Lecieurs,

" See Dictionary of National Biography, which gives fuller information
than I have found elsewhere.

Ixxi

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

INTRO- Henry vii., Henry viii., Edward vi., Queen Jane, Mary, and

DUCTION Elizabeth — so disastrous to the older nobility — ever con-
trived to make terms with the winning side ; until, dying in
1564, a peer of the realm and Lord Lieutenant of Cambridge-
shire and the Isle of Ely, he was buried in Kirtling Church,
where his monumental inscription may still be read in the
chancel. His son Thomas was also entered a student at

Lincoln's Inn Lincoln's Inn (1557), but he soon prefeiTed letters before
law. He was generally, Leicester wrote to Burghley, 'a
' very honest gentleman, and hath many good things in him,
' which are drowned only by poverty.' In particular, we are
told by his great-nephew, the fourth Baron, he was ' a man
' of courage,' and in the days of the Ai'mada we find him
taking command, as Captain, of three hundred men of Ely.
Fourteen years before (in 1574) he had accompanied his
brother Roger, the second Baron, in his Embassy-Extra-

Frauce ordinary to Henri iii. : a mission of interest to us, as it

cannot but have encountered him with Amyot, and may
have determined him to translate the Lives. He was already
an author. In December 1557 he had published, with a
dedication to Queen Mary, his translation of Guevara's Lihro
Aureo^ a Spanish adaptation of the Meditations of Marcus
Aurelius; and in 1570 The Morall PhilosopMe of Doni . . .
' a worke first compiled in the Indian tongue.' ^ For the rest,
his immortal service to English letters brought him little
wealth, but much consideration from his neighbours, his
kinsmen, and his sovereign. In 1568 he was presented with

Rewards the freedom of the city of Cambridge. In 1576 his brother

gave him the 'lease of a house and household stuff.' He
was knighted about 1591 ; he received the Commission of
the Peace in Cambridgeshire in 1592 ; in 1601 he got a
pension of ,£40 from the Queen, duly acknowledged in his
dedication of the lives added to the Plutarch of 1603.
He died, it is likely, before this edition saw the light: a
valiant and courteous gentleman, and the earliest master of
gi'eat English prose.

^ Subsequent editions, 1568, 1582, 1619.

- Second edition, 1601. Reprinted as T/ie Fables of Bidpai, with an
Introduction by Joseph Jacobs, 1888.

Ixxii

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

He also thought the Lives a book 'meete to be set forth INTRO-
* in English.' i Truly : but in what English ? He writes of DUCTION
a Muse 'called Tacita,^ as ye would saye, ladye Silence.'
Should we ? Turning to a modem translation, I find ' Tacita,
' which means silent or dumb.' The glory has clearly
departed : but before seeking it again in North's unrivalled
language, I must ask of him, as I have asked of Amyot, Was HisAccuracy
he an accurate translator ? I do not believe there are a score
of passages throughout his 1175 folio pages ^ in which he
impairs the sense of his original. And most of these are
the merest slips, arising from the necessity imposed on him
of breaking up Amyot's prolonged periods, and his subse-
quent failure in the attribution of relatives and qualifica-
tions. They are not of the slightest consequence, if the
reader, on finding an obscui'ity, will rely on the general sense
of the passage rather than on the mles of syntax ; and of such
obscm-ities I will boldly say that there are not ten in the
whole book. Very rarely he mistakes a word — as ' real ' for
' royal ' — and very rarely a phrase. For instance, in the
Pericles he writes : ' At the beginning there was but a little Blunders and
' secret grudge only between these two factions, as an arti- L-iberties
^ Jicial Jiower set in the blade of a sworde^ which stands for
' comme une feuille superficielle en une lame de fer.' In the
Solon he writes : * his familier friendes above all rebuked
' him, saying he was to be accompted no better than a beast,""
for ' qu il seroit bien beste.' Some of his blunders lend
power to Amyot and Plutarch both : as in that fine passage of
the Publicola, wherein the conspirators' ' great and horrible
' othe, drinking the blood of a man and shaking hands in
' his bowels,' stands for ' touchant des mains aux entrailles.'
There is one such error of unique interest. It stands in
Shakespeare that

' in his mantle muffling up his face.
Even at the base of Pompey's statua.
Which all the while ran blood, great Caesar fell ' ;

^ Dedication to Elizabeth. ^ In the Numa.

' The first edition of 1559, compared by me with Amyot's second edition
of 1565. I had not the third, of 1567, from which North translated ; but
on several points I have referred to the copy in the British Museum.
Ar Ixxiii

INTRO-
DUCTION

His Use of

Earlier

Versions

His Use of
Amyot

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

and we read in North, 'against the base, whereupon Pom-
' pey"'s image stoode, which ranne all of a goare bloude'' ;
but Amyot simply writes, ' qui en fust toute ensanglantee.
The blunder has enriched the world : that is, if it was truly
a blunder, and not a touch of genius. For North will
sometimes, though very rarely of set purpose, magnify with
a word, or transfigure a sentence. * Le deluge,"" for example,
is always ' Noe''s flood ' ; and in one celebrated passage he
bowdierises without shame, turning Flora's parting caress
to Pompey into a ' sweete quippe or pleasant taunte.' ^
Such are the discrepancies which can by any stretch be
called blunders ; and the sum of them is insignificant in a
work which echoes its original not only in sense but also in
rhythm and form. North had the Greek text, or perhaps a
Latin translation, before him. In the Sertoi-ius he speaks
of ' Gaule Narbonensis,' with nothing but ' Languedoc ' in
Amyot ; in the Pompey he gives the Greek, unquoted by
Amyot, for ' let the dye be cast ' ; in dealing with Demos-
thenes' quinsy, he attempts an awkward pun, which Amyot
had disdained ; and in the Cicero he gives in Greek char-
acter the original for Latin terms of philosophy, whereas
Amyot does not. These are the only indications I have
found of his having looked beyond the French. But on
Amyot he set a grip which had its bearing on the develop-
ment of Tudor prose. It may even be that, in tracing this
development, we have looked too exclusively to Italian,
Spanish, and classical sources. Sidney read North's book ;
Shakespeare rifled it ; and seven editions ^ were published,
within the hundred years which saw the new birth of Eng-
lish prose and its glorious fulfilment. In acknowledging
our debt, have we not unduly neglected the Bishop of
AuxeiTe ? Sentence for sentence and rhythm for rhythm, in
all the great passages North's style is essentially Amyot's.^
There are differences, of course, which catch the eye, and

^ Greek dSiyKTwy: Lat., Ed. Princeps (1470), 'sine morsu.' Long has
another reading and translation, but most will agree that Amyot's is not a
blunder but an emendation.

"" 1579 ; 1595 ; 1603 ; 1612 ; 1631 ; 1657 ; 1676.

^ Cf. for instance, in the Antonius, Cleopatra on the Cydnus ; the death of
Antonius ; and the death of Cleopatra.
Ixxiv

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

have, therefore, as I think, attracted undue attention, the INTRO-
more naturally since they are all in North''s favour. His DUCTION
vigorous diction puts stuff into the text : he stitches it with
sturdy locutions, he tags it with Elizabethan braveries. But
the woof and the design are still Amyot's ; and the two ver-
sions may be studied most conveniently abreast.

In neither writer is the verse of any account. Indeed, Differences
when North comes to an incident of the Gymnopoedia — ' the ^^^ Resem-
* which Sophocles doth easily declare by these verses : auces

' The song which you shall sing shall be the sonnet sayde

' By Hermony lusty lasse, that strong and sturdy mayde ;

' Which trust her peticote about her middle short

' And set to show her naked hippes in frank and friendly sort ' —

you feel that the reference to Sophocles is not only remote
but also grotesque. It is very different with their prose.
And first, is North''s version — the translation of a transla-
tion— by much removed from Plutarch ? In a sense, yes.
It is even truer of North than of Amyot, that he offers
Plutarch neither to philosophers nor to grammarians, but
to all who would understand life and human nature.^ But
for these, and for all lovers of language, Plutarch loses little
in Amyot, saving in the matter of literary allusion ; and
Amyot loses nothing in North, save for the presence of a
score of whims and obscurities. On the other hand, we
recapture in North an English equivalent for those 'gascon-
isms' which Montaigne retained in French, but which Amyot
rejected from it. The Plutarchian hues are never lost — they
are but doubly refracted ; and by each refraction they are
broadened in surface and deepened in tone. The sunlight
of his sense is sometimes subdued by a light mist, or is
caught in the fantastic outline of a little cloud. But the
general effect is touched with a deeper solemnity and a more
splendid iridescence ; even where the vapoui's lie thickest, the
red rays throb through.

But the proof of the pudding is the eating. Let us take North and his
a passage at random, and compare the sixteenth century Successors
renderings with the cold perversions of a later age. For

^ Gustave Lanson, La littirature fran^aise (1894), p. 223.

Ixxv

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

INTRO-
DUCTION

The Lang-
hornes

Dryden

example, Amyot writes ^ that Pythagoras ' apprivoisa une
' aigle, qu'il feit descendre et venir a luy par certaines voix,
' ainsi comme elle volait en Tair dessus sa teste "■ ; in North
this eagle is ' so tame and gentle, that she would stoupe, and
' come down to him by certaine voyees, as she flewe in the
' ayer over his head ' ; while in an accurate modern, Pytha-
goras merely ' tamed an eagle and made it alight on him.'
The earlier creature flies like a bird of Jove, but the later
comes down like a brick. The Langhornes' eagle is still
more precipitate, their Pythagoras still more peremptory.

* That philosopher ,"* as they naturally call the Greek, ' had
' so far tamed an eagle that by pronoimcing certain words
' he could stop it in its flight, or bring it down.' Perhaps
I may finish at once with the Langhomes by referring to
their description of Cleopatra on the Cydnus. They open
that pageant, made glorious for ever by Amyot, North, and
Shakespeare, in these terms : * Though she had received
' many pressing letters of invitation from Antony and his
' friends, . . . she by no means took the most expeditious

* mode of travelling.' Thus the Langhornes ; and they
denounce the translation called Dryden's ^ for ' tame and
' tedious, without elegance, spirit, or precision ' ! Now, it
was a colossal impertinence to put out the Lives among
the Greeklings of Grub Street, in order to ' complete the
' whole in a year ' ; but it must be noted that, after North's,
this^ is still the only version that can be read without
impatience. Dryden's hacks were not artists, but neither
were they prigs : the vocabulary was not yet a charnel of
decayed metaphor ; and if they missed the rapture of six-
teenth century rhythm, they had not bleached the colour,
carded the texture, and ironed the surface of their language
to the well-glazed insignificance of the later eighteenth
century. Their Plutarch is no longer ^Tapped in the royal
robes of Amyot and North ; but he is spared the cheap

^ Niima Pompilius.

- Corrected and revised by A. H. Clough, 1883.

^ Dryden, in his dedication to the Duke of Ormonde (1683), spoke of
North as ungrammatical and ungraceful. The version he signed was * exe-
' cuted by several hands ' ; but with his name on the title-page it displaced
North's, which is now for the first time since republished.
Ixxvi

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

though formal tailoring of Dacier and the Langhomes. In INTRO-
our own time there have been translations by scholars : they DUCTION
are useful as cribs, but they do not pretend to charm. Here,
for instance, is North'^s funeral of Philopoemen : ' The soul-

* diers were all crowned "with garlandes of Laiu-ell in token
' of victory, not withstanding the teares ranne downe their

* cheekes in token of sorrowe, and they led their enemies
' prisoners shackled and chained. The funeral pot in which
' were Philipoemenes ashes, was so covered with garlands of
' flowers, nosegaies, and laces that it could scant be scene or
' discerned/ And here is the crib : ' There one might see

' men crowned with garlands but weeping at the same time, A Latter-day

' and leading along his enemies in chains. The vun itself, ^^^^

' which was scarcely to be seen for the garlands and ribbons

' with which it was covered,' etc. Here, too, is North's

Demetrius : ' He took pleasure of Lamia, as a man would

' have delight to heare one tell tales, when he hath nothing

' else to doe, or is desirous to sleep : but indeede when he

' was to make any preparation for warre, he had not then

' ivey at his darfs end, nor had his helmet perfumed, nor

' came not out of ladies closets, pricked and princt to go to

' battell : but he let all dauncing and sporting alone, and

' became as the poet Euripides saith,

' The souldier of Mars, cruell and bloodie. '

And here is the crib : ' He only dedicated the supei-fluity of his
' leisure to enjoyment, and used his Lamia, like the mythical
' nightmare, only when he was half asleep or at play. When
' he was preparing for war, no ivy wreathed his spear, no
' perfume scented his helmet, nor did he go from his bed-
' chamber to battle covered with finery.' ' Dedicated the
' superfluity of his leisure ! ' At such a jewel the Langhornes
must have turned in envy in their graves ! But, apart from
style, modern scholars have a fetish which they worship to A Latter-day
the ruin of any literary claim. Amyot and North have been Fetish
ridiculed for writing, in accordance with their method, of
nuns and churches, and not of vestals and temples. Yet the
opposite extreme is far more fatiguing. AVhere is the sense

Ixxvii

INTRO-
DUCTION

The German
Unchained

French and
English : the
Question of
Form

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

of putting ' chalkaspides ' in the text and ' soldiers who had
' shields of brass "" in the notes ? Is it not really less dis-
tracting to read, as in North, of soldiers ' marching with
' their copper targets ' ? So, too, with the Parthian kettle-
drums. It is an injury to write ' hollow instruments' in so
splendid a passage ; and an insult to add in a note ' the con-
' text seems to show that a drum is meant.' Of course !
And ' kettle-drums ' is a perfect equivalent for poirrpa, ' made
' of skin, and hollow, which they stretch round brass sounders.'
But if these things are done in England, you may know what
to expect of Germany. In the picture of Cato's suicide there
is one supreme touch, rendered by Plutarch i]Br} S'opvcOe^i
■^Sov ; by Amyot les petits oyseauw commengoient desja a
chanter ; by North, tlie little birds began to chirpe. But Kalt-
wasser turns the little birds into crowing cocks ; and main-
tains his position by a learned argument. It was still, says
he, in the night, and other fowls are silent until dawn.^ If
the style of the eighteenth century be tedious, the scholar-
ship of the nineteenth is intolerable. The truth is that in
the sixteenth alone could the Lives be fitly translated. For
there were passages, as of the arming of Greece, in the
Philopaemen, which could only be rendered in an age still
accustomed to armour. Any modern rendering, be it by
writer or by don, must needs be archaistically mediaeval or
pedantically antique.

Turning, then, to Amyot and North, the strangest thing
to note, and the most important, is that the English, although
without a touch of foreign idiom, is modelled closely upon the
French. Some explanation of this similarity in form may be
found in the nature of the matter. The narration, as op-
posed to the analysis, of action ; the propounding, as opposed
to the proof, of philosophy — these are readily conveyed from
one language into another, and Joshua and Ecclesiastes are
good reading in most versions of the Bible. But North is
closer to Amyot than any two versions of the Bible are to
each other. The French runs into the English five times out
of six, and in all the great passages, not only word for word
but almost cadence for cadence. There is a trick of redun-

Ixxviii

^ See Plutarch's Lives : Stewart and Long, in. 572.

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

dancy in Tudor prose that makes for emphasis and melody. INTRO-
We account it English, and find it abounding in our Bible. DUCTION
It is wholly alien from modem French prose — wholly alien,
too, from French prose of the seventeenth century. Indeed,
I would go further, and say that it is largely characteristic of
Amyot the wTiter, and not of the age in which he wrote. Amyot's
You do not find it, for instance, in the prose of Joachim du Manner
Bellay.^ But now take North's account of the execution ^^^ North s
before Brutus of his two eldest sons ; ^ ' which,' you read,
' was such a pitieful sight to all people, that they could not
' find it in their hearts to beholde it, but turned themselves
' another waye, bicause they would not see it.' That effec-
tive repetition is word for word in the French : ' qu'ilz
' n'avoient pas le cueur de les regarder, ains se tournoient
' d'un austre coste pom' n'en rien veo'ir.'' But, apart from re-
dundancy, the closeness is at all times remarkable. Consider Points of
the phrase : ' but to go on quietly and joyfully at the sound Contrast

* of these pipes to hazard themselves even to death.' ^ You
would swear it original, but here is the French : ' ains aller
' posement et joyeusement au son des instruments, se hazarder
' au peril de la mort.' The same effect is produced by the
same rhythm. Or, take the burial of unchaste vestals : *
when the muffled litter passes, the people ' follow it moum-
' ingly with heavy looks and speake never a word ' ; ' avec une
' chere basse, et morne sans mot dire '; and so on, in identical
rhythm, to the end of that magnificent passage. I will give
one longer example, from the return of Alcibiades. You read
in North : ' Those that could come near him dyd welcome
' and imbrace him : but all the people wholly followed him :

* And some that came to him put garlands of flowers upon his
' head : and those that could not come neare him, sawe him
' afarre off", and the olde folkes dyd poynte him out to the
' younger sorte.' And in Amyot : ' Ceulx qui en pouvoient
' approcher le saluoient et I'embrassoient, mais tous 1' accom-

* pagnoient ; et y en avoient aucuns qui s'approchans de luy,
' luy mettoient des chappeaux de fleurs siu" la teste et ceulx
' qui n'en pouvoient approcher, le regardoient de loing, et les

^ Deffense et illustration de la Langue franfoise.

^ Publicola. ^ Lycurgus. * Numa.

Ixxix

INTRO-
DUCTION

Amyot's
Influence on
Elizabethan
English

Antithesis

Majesty and
Music

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

' vieux le monstroient aux jeunes.' Here is the very manner
of the Authorised Version : flowing but not prolix, full but
not turgid. Is it, then, fanciful to suggest that Amyot's
style, evolved from the inherent difficulty of his task, was
accepted by North for its beauty, and used by the translators
of the Bible for its fitness to an undertaking hard for similar
reasons and in a similar way ? Amyot piles up his epithets,
and links one varied cadence to another : yet his volume is
not of extravagant utterance, but of extreme research. He
was endeavouring to render late Greek into French of the
Renaissance ; and so he sought for perfect expression not
— as to-day — in one word but in the resultant of many.
And this very volume of utterance, however legitimate, im-
posed the necessity of rhythm. His innumerable words,
if they were not to weary, must be strung on a wire of
undulating gold. North copied this cadence, and gave a
storehouse of expression to the writers of his time. It
seems to me, therefore, not rash to trace, through North, to
Amyot one rivulet of the many that fell into the mighty
stream of rhythm flowing through the classic version of the
English Bible.

But North and Amyot are not men of one trick : they
can be terse and antithetical when they will. You read
that Themistocles advanced the honour of the Athenians,
making them ' to overcome their enemies by force, and their
' friends and allies with liberality ' ; in Amyot : ' Vaincre
' leurs ennemies en prouesse, et leiurs alhez et amis en
' bonte ' ! North can play this tune as well as any : e.g.^
' If they,' Plutarch's heroes, ' have done this for heathen
' Kings, what should we doe for Christian Princes "i If they
' have done this for glorye, what shoulde we doe for religion "i
' If thev have done this without hope of heaven, what should
' we doe that looke for immortalitie ? ' ^ But he can play
other tunes too. Much is now \vi'itten of the development
of the sentence ; and no doubt since the decadence advances
have been made. Yet, in the main, they are to recover a
territory wilfully abandoned. In North and Amyot there
are sentences of infinite device — sentences numerous and har-

Ixxx

^ Dedication to Elizabeth.

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

monic beyond the dreams of Addison and Swift. I will INTRO-
give some examples. Amyot: ' S'eblouissant a regarder une DUCTION
' telle splendeur, et se perdant a sonder un tel abysme.''
That is fine enough, but North beats it : ' Dazeled at the
' beholding of such brightnesse, and confounded at the gaging
' of so bottomlesse a deepe.'' ^ Amyot : ' Ne plus ne moins
' que si c'eust este quelque doulce haleine d\ui vent salubre
' et gracieu qui leur eust souffle du coste de Rome pour
' les rafreshir.' And North : ' As if some gentle ayer had North's
' breathed on them by some gracious and healthful! wind, Superiority
* blowen from Rome to refresh them.'^ No translation could ^^^
be closer ; yet in the first example North's English is stronger
than the French, and in the second it flows, like the air,
with a more ineffable ease. Take, again, the account of
the miracle witnessed during the battle of Salamis. Here
is Amyot : ' que Von ouit une haulte voix et grande clameur
' par toute la plaine Thrasiene jusques a la mer, comme s'il y
' eust eu grand nomhre dliommes qui ensemble eussent a haulte
' voix chante le sacre cantique de lacchus, et semhloit que de
' la multitude de ceidx qui chantoient il se levast petit a petit
' tme nuee en Fair, laquelle partant de la terre venoit a
''Jondre et tumher sur les galeres en la mer.'' And here is
North : ' that a lowde voyce was heard through all the
' plaine of Thriasia unto the sea, as if there had bene a
' number of men together, that had songe out alowde, the
' holy songe of lacchus. And it seemed by litle and litle
' that there rose a clowde in the ayer from those which
' sange : that left the land, and came and lighted on the
' gallyes in the sea.** I have put into italics so much of
Amyot as North renders word for word. His fidelity is
beyond praise ; but the combination of such fidelity Avith
perfect and musical expression is no less than a miracle
of artistry. North, in this passage as elsewhere, not only
writes more beautiful English : he gives, also, a descrip-
tion of greater completeness and clarity than you will find
in any later version of Plutarch. The elemental drama
transfigures his prose ; but every fact is realised, every
sensuous impression is set down, and set down in its order.
^ Amyot : Atix Lecteurs. - Nittna.

I Ixxxi

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

INTRO- So much may be said, too, of Amyot; but in his rendering
DUCTION you are aware of the words and the construction — in fact,
of the author. In North's there is but the pageant of the
sky ; there is never a restless sound to disturb the illusion ;
the cadence is sublimated of all save a delicate alliteration,
tracing its airy rhythm to the ear. The work is full of such
effects, some of simple melody, and others of more than
contrapuntal involution ; for he commands his English as a

His Mastery skilled organist his organ, knowing the multitude of its re-

of English sources, and drawing at need upon them all. Listen to his
rendering of Pericles' sorrow for his son : ' Neither saw they
' him weepe at any time nor mourne at the funeralles of any
' of his kinsmen or friendes, but at the death of Paralus, his
' younger and lawful begotten sonne : for, the losse of him
' alone dyd only melt his harte. Yet he dyd strive to
' showe his naturall constancie, and to keepe his accustomed
' modestie. But as he woulde have put a garland of flowers
' upon his head, sorrowe dyd so pierce his harte when he
' sawe his face, that then he burst out in teares and cryed
' amaine ; which they never saw him doe before all the
' dayes of his life.'' Yes, the pathos of the earth is within
his compass ; but he can also attain to the sublimity of
heaven : ' The everlasting seate, which trembleth not, and
' is not driven nor moved with windes, neither is darkened
' with clowdes, but is allwayes bright and cleare, and at all
' times shyning with a pure bright light, as being the only
' habitation and mansion place of the eternall God, only
' happy and immortall." ^

These two passages from the last movement of the Pericles
can only be spoken of in North's own language : they are
' as stoppes and soundes of the soul played upon with the
' fine fingered hand of a conning master.' ^ Yet they are

His Debt to modelled on Amyot's French. It seems scarce credible ;

Amyot and indeed, if the mould be the same, the metal has been

transmuted. You feel that much has been added to the
form so faithfully followed ; that you are listening to an
English master of essentially English prose. For these

1 Amyot : ' Comme estant telle habitation et convenable a la nature
' souverainement heureuse et immortelle.' " Pericles.

Ixxxii

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

passages are in tlie tradition of our tongue: the first gives INTRO-
an echo of Malory's stately pathos, and the second an earnest DUCTION
of our Apocalypse. In building up these palaces of music
North has followed the lines of Amyofs construction ; but
his melody in the first is sweeter, his harmony in the second
peals out with a loftier rapture.

I have dwelt upon the close relation of North's style to
Amyot's, because it is the rule, and because it has a bearing
on the development of Tudor prose. This rule of likeness
seems to me worthier of note than any exceptions ; both for
the strangeness and the importance. But, of course, there
are exceptions : there are traits, of attitude and of expres- Exceptions to
sion, personal to North the man and the writer. He has a North's Rule
national leaning towards the sturdy and the bluff". In a
sonnet written some twenty years earlier, Du Bellay, giving
every nation a particular epithet, labels our forefathers for
' les Anglais mutins."" The epithet is chosen by an enemy ;
but there was ever in the English temper, above all, in the
roaring days of great Elizabeth, a certain jovial froward-
ness, by far removed both from impertinence and from
bluster, which inclined us, as we should put it, to stand
no nonsense from anybody. This national characteristic is His Sturdi-
strongly marked in North. For him Spartacus and his ness
slaves are 'rebellious rascals.' When Themistocles boasts
of being able to make a small city great, though he can-
not, indeed, tune a viol or play of the psalterion, Amyot
calls his words 'un peu haultaines et odieuses': they are re-
pugnant to the cultured prelate, and he gives a full equi-
valent for the censure of Plutarch, the cultured Greek.^ But
North will not away with this censure of a bluff' retort :
having his bias, he deliberately betrays his original, making
Themistocles answer ' with great and stout words.' There His Sense of
is also in North's character a strain of kindness, almost of Pathos
softness, towards women and children and the pathetic side
of life. In the wonderful passage describing the living burial
of unchaste vestals,^ where almost every other word is liter-

^ The Greek epithet is rendered by the word arrogant in Clough's revised
Dryden, and by the word vulgar in Mr. Stewart's translation.
* Nutna.

Ixxxiii

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

INTRO- ally translated, North turns 'la criminelle"' into 'the seely
DUCTION ' offendour ' : as it were with a gracious reminiscence of
Chaucer's ' ne me ne list this seely woman chide.' And in
the Solon^ where a quaint injunction is given for preserving
love in wedlock, Amyot writes that so courteous a custom,
being observed by a husband towards his wife, ' garde que
' les courages et vouluntez ne s'alienent de tout poinct les
' uns des autres.' (The phrase is rendered in a modern
version 'preventing their leading to actual quarrel.') But
North lifts the matter above the level of laughter or
puritanical reproach : it ' keepeth,' as he writes, ' love and
' good will waking, that it die not utterly between them.'
The beauty and gentleness of these words, in so strange a
context, are, you feel, inspired by chivalry and a deep rever-
ence for women. These two strains in North's character
find vent in his expression ; but they never lead him far
from the French. There is an insistence, but no more,
on all things gentle and brave ; and this insistence goes
but to further a tendency already in Amyot. For in
that age the language of gentlemen received a like impress
in both countries from their common standards of courage
Amyot, Northland courtesy; and among gentlemen, Amyot and North
and Plutarch seem to have been drawn yet closer to each other by a
common kinship with the brave and gentle soul of Plutarch.
These two qualities which are notable in Plutarch and
Amyot in all such passages, lead in North to a distinct
exaggeration of phrase, though ever in the direction of
their true intent. He makes grim things grimmer, and
sweet things more sweet. So that the double translation
from the Greek gives the effect of a series of contours
traced the one above the other, and ever increasing the
curve of the lowest outline.
His Vigour But North, being no sentimentalist, finds occasion for fifty

of Phrase stout words against one soft saying. The stark vigour of
his diction is, indeed, its most particular sig-n. The profit
to the Greeks of a preliminary fight before Salamis is thus
declared by Amyot : it proved ' que la grande multitude des
' vaisseaux, ny la pompe et magnificence des parements
' d'iceulx, ny les cris superbes et chants de victoire des Bar-
Ixxxiv

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

' bares, ne servent de rien a Tencontre de ceulx qui ont le INTRO-
' cueur de joindre de pres, et combattre a coups de main leur DUCTION
' ennemy, et qiiil ne fault pointjaire compte de tout cela, ains
' aller droit affronter les hommes et s'attacher hardiment a
' eulx.'' North follows closely for a time, but in the last
sentence he lets out his language to the needs of a maxim so
pertinent to a countryman of Drake. The Greeks saw, says and Lusti-
he, ' that it was not the gTeat multitude of shippes, nor the "ess of
' pomp and sumptuous setting out of the same, nor the Sentiment
' prowde barbarous showts and songes of victory that could
' stand them to purpose, against noble hartes and valliant
' minded souldiers, that durst grapple with them, and come
' to hand strokes with their enemies : and that they should
' viake no reckoning of all that bravery and hragges, but
' should sticke to it like men, and laye it on the jacks of them.''
The knight who was to captain his three hundred men in
the Armada year, has the pull here over the bishop ; and on
occasion he has always such language at command. 'Les
' autres qui estoient demourez a Rome '' instead of marching
to the war ^ are ' the home-taiTiers and house-doves ' : up-
braided elsewhere ^ because they ' never went from the smoke
' of the chimney nor can'ied away any blowes in the field."*
When Philopoemen, wounded with a dart that ' pierced both
' thighes thi'ough and through, that the iron was scene on
' either side," saw ' the fight terrible," and that it ' woulde
' soon be ended,"' you read in Amyot ' qu'il perdoit patience
' de despit,"' but in North that ' it spited him to the guttes,
' he would so faine have bene among them."" The phrase is
born of sympathy and conviction. North, too, has a fine
impatience of fools. Hannibal, discovering the error of his
guides, ' les feit pendre "■ in Amyot ; in North he ' roundely
' trussed them up and honge them by the neckes."' ^ And
he is not sparing in his censure of ill-livers. Phcea, you read
in the Theseus, ' was surnamed a sowe for her beastly brutishe
' behavioui", and wicked life.'' He can be choleric as well as
kindly, and never minces his words.

Apart from those expressions which spring fi'om the
idiosyncrasy of his temperament, North's style shares to the
^ Cotiolanus. - Fabius Maximus. ^ Ibid.

Ixxxv

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

INTRO-
DUCTION

His Vocabu-
lary

Proverbs and
Images

full in the general glory of Elizabethan prose. You read of
'fretised seelings,"*^ of words that 'dulce and soften the
' hardened harts of the multitude ' ; ^ of the Athenians
' being set on a jolitie to see themselves strong.' Heads
are 'passhed in peces,' and men 'ashamed to cast their
' honour at their heeles' (Amyot: 'd'abandonner leur gloire ').
Themistocles"' father shows him the ' shipwracks and ribbes
' (Amyot : ' les corps "*) of olde gallyes cast here and there.'
You have, ' pluck out of his head the worm of ambition ' ^
for ' oster de sa fantasie Tambition "" ; and Caesar on the
night before his death hears Calpurnia, ' being fast asleep,
* weepe and sigh, and put forth many fumhling lamentable
' speeches.'' But in particular, North is richer than even his
immediate followers in homespun images and proverbial
locutions. Men who succeed, ' bear the bell ' ; * ' tenter la
' fortune le premier "* is 'to breake the ise of this enter-
' prise.' ^ Coriolanus by his pride ' stirred coales emong the
' people.' The Spartans who thwailed Themistocles ' dyd
' sit on his skirtes ' ; and the Athenians fear Pericles because
in voice and manner ' he was Pisistratus up and downe.' The
Veians let fall their ' peacockes bravery ' ; ^ and a man when
pleased is 'as merry as a pye.'*^ Raw recruits are 'fresh-
' water souldiers.' A turncoat carries ' two faces in one
' hoode ' ; ^ and the Carthaginians, being outwitted, are
' ready to eate their fingers for spyte.' The last locution
occurs also in North's Morall PhilosopMe of 1570 : he
habitually used such expressions, and yet others which are
truly proverbs, common to many languages. For instance,
he wi'ites in the Camillus, ' these words made Brennus mad as
' a March Hare that out went his blade ' ; in Cato Utican
' to set all at six and seven ' ; in Solon ' so sweete it is
' to rule the roste ' ; in Pelopidas ' to hold their noses to
' the gryndstone ' ; in Cicero, with even greater incongruity,
of his wife Terentia ' wearing her husbandes breeches.'
In the Alcibiades, the Athenians ' upon his persuasion,
' built castles in the ayer ' ; and this last has been referred to

^ Lycurgus. - Publicola.

* The old prize for a racehorse.
« Camillus. 7 jhid,

Ixxxvi

' Solon.
^ Piiblicola.
* Tinioleon.

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

Sidney's Apologue ; but the first known edition of the INTRO-

Apologie is dated 1595, and it is supposed to have been DUCTION

written about 1581 ; North has it not only in the Lives

(1579), but in his Morall Philosophie of 1570.1 To North,

too, we may perhaps attribute some of the popularity in

England of engaging jingles, ' Pritle pratle ' and ' topsie His Jingles

' turvie ' occur both in the Lives and the Morall Philosophie.

And in the Lives you have also ' spicke and spanne newe "" ; ^

with ' hurly burly "" and ' pel mel,' adopted by Shakespeare in

Macbeth and Richard III. Since North takes the last from

Amyot and explains it — ' fled into the camp pel mel or hand

' over heade' — and since it is of French derivation — pelle-

mesle = ' to mix with a shovel ' — it is possible that the phrase

is here used for the first time.

Gathered together, these peculiarities of style seem His Style
many ; and yet in truth they are few. They are the merest and its
accidents in a great stream of rhythm. That stream flows Accidents
steadily and superbly through a channel of another man's
digging. For North's style is Amyofs, divided into shorter
periods, strengthened with racy locutions, and decked with
Elizabethan tags. In English such division was necessary :
the rhythm, else, of the weightier language had gained such
momentum as to escape control. But even so North's
English is neither cramped nor pruned : it is still unfettered
by antithesis and prodigal of display. His periods, though
shorter than Amyot's, in themselves are leisurely and long.
There is room in them for fine words and lofty phrases ; and
these go bragging by, the one following a space after the
other, like cars in an endless pageant. The movement of
his procession rolls on : yet he halts it at pleasure, to soften
sorrow with a gracious saying, or to set a flourish on the
bravery of his theme.

IV

The earliest tribute to the language of Amyot and North
was the highest that has ever, or can ever, be paid ; both for

^ Fables of Bidpai, 1888, p. II.

- Paidiis ^milius ; in a gorgeous description of the Macedonian phalanx ;
from spick = a spike, and span = a splinter.

Ixxxvii

INTRO-
DUCTION

North's

Debtor-in-

Chief

The Roman
Plays

Coriolanus

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

its own character and the authority of those who gave it.
For Montaigne, the greatest literary genius in France
during the sixteenth century, wrote thus of Aymot : ' Nous
' estions perdus, si ce livre ne nous eust tires du bourbier :
' sa mercy, nous osons a cette heure parler et escrire "* ; ^
and Shakespeare, the first poet of all time, borrowed three
plays almost wholly from North. I do not speak of A
Midsummer Niglifs Dream and The Two Noble Kinsmen^
for each of which a little has been gleaned from North''s
Theseus \ nor of the Timon of Alliens^ although here the
debt is larger.^ The wit of Apemantus, the Apologue of
the Fig-tree, and the two variants of Timon's epitaph, are
all in North. Indeed, it was the ' rich conceit '' of Timon's
tomb by the sea-shore which touched Shakespeare's imagi-
nation, as it had touched Antony's ; so that some of the
restricted passion of North's Antonms^ which bursts into
showers of meteoric splendour in the Fourth and Fifth Acts
of Shakespeare's Antony and Cleopatra^ beats too, in the
last lines of his Timon, with a rhythm as of billows :

' yet rich conceit
Taught thee to make vast Neptune weep for aye
On thy low grave, on faults forgiven, '

But in Antony and Cleopatra, as in Coriolanus and in Julius
Ccesar, Shakespeare's obligation is apparent in almost all he
has written. To measure it you must quote the bulk of the
three plays. ' Of the incident,' Trench has said, ' there is
' almost nothing which he does not owe to Plutarch, even
' as continually he owes the very wording to Sir Thomas
' North' ;^ and he follows up this judgment with so detailed
an analysis of the Julius Casar that I shall not attempt to
labour the same ground. As regards the Coriolanus, it was
noted, even by Pope, 'that the whole history is exactly
' followed, and many of the principal speeches exactly copied,
' from the life of Coriolanus in Plutarch.' This exactitude,
apart from its intrinsic interest, may sometimes assist in

1 Essais, II. iv,

- It is founded on one passage in the Alcibiades and another in the Antony.
' Plutarch. Five Lectures, p. 66.
Ixxxviii

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

restoring a defective passage. One such piece there is in INTRO-
II. iii. 231 of the Cambridge Shakespeare, 1865 : DUCTION

' The noble hoiise o the Marcians, from whence came
That Ancus Marcius, Numa's daughter s son,
Who, after great Hostilius, here wa^ king ;
Of the same house Fublius and Quintus were.
That our best water brought by conduits hither. '

The Folios here read :

' And Nobly nam'd^ so twice being Censor,
Was his great Ancestor.'

It is evident that, after ' hither,' a line has been lost, and A Lost Line
Rowe, Pope, Delius, and others have tried their best to
recapture it. Pope, knowing of Shakespeare'*s debt and
founding his emendation on North, could suggest nothing
better than 'And Censorinus, darling of the people'; while
Delius, still more strangely, stumbled, as I must think,
on the right reading, but for the inadequate reason that
' darling of the people ' does not sound like Shakespeare. I
have given in italics the words taken from North : and,
applying the same method to the line suggested by Delius,
you read : ' And Censorinus that was so surnamed,'' then,
in the next line, by merely shifting a comma, you read on :
' And nobly named so, twice being CensorS Had Delius
pointed out that he got his line simply by following
Shakespeare's practice of taking so many of North's words,
in their order, as would fall into blank verse, his emendation
must surely have been accepted, since it involves no change
in the subsequent lines of the Folios ; whereas the Cambridge
Shakespeare breaks one line into two, and achieves but an
awkward result :

' And [Censorinus] nobly named so,
Twice being [by the people chosen] censor. '

The closeness of Shakespeare's rendering, indicated by this The Sum of
use of italics, is not particular to this passage, but is universal Shakespeare's
throughout the play. Sometimes he gives a conscious turn ^^^*
to North's unconscious humour : as when, in the Parable of
the Belly and the Members, North writes, ' And so the bellie,
"* Ixxxix

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

INTRO- ' all this notwithstanding laughed at their follie ' ; and Shake-

DUCTION spcarc writes in i. i., 'For, look you, I may make the belly

' smile As well as speak.' At others his fidelity leads him

into an anachronism. North writes of Coriolanus that ' he

' was even such another, as Cato would have a souldier and a

' captaine to be : not only temble and fierce to laye aboute

' him, but to make the enemie afeard with the sound of his

' voyce and grimness of his countenance.*" And Shakespeare,

An Aiiachron- with a frank disregard for chronology, gives the speech, Cato

ism and all, to Titus Lartius (i. iv. 57) :

' Thou wast a soldier
Even to Cato's wish, not fierce and terrible
Only in strokes ; but with thy grim looks and
The thunder-like percussion of thy sounds^,
Thou mad'st thine enemies shake/

But perhaps the most curious evidence of the degree to
which Shakespeare steeped himself in North is to be found
in passages where he borrowed North's diction and applied it
A Borrowed to new purposes. For instance, in North ' a goodly horse
Palette t with a capparison ' is offered to Coriolanus ; in Shakespeare,

at the same juncture, Lartius says of him :

' O General,
Here is the steed, we the caparison. '

Shakespeare, that is, not only copies North's pictm-e, he also
uses North's palette. Throughout the play he takes the
incidents, the images, and the very words of North. You
read in North : ' More over he sayed they nourished against
' themselves, the naughty seede and cockle of insolencie and
' sedition, which had been sowed and scattered abroade
' amongst the people.' And in Shakespeare, iii. i. 69 :

' In soothing them we nourish 'gainst our senate
The cockle of rebellion, insolence, sedition,
Which we ourselves have plough'd for, sow'd and scatter' d.'

Of course it is not argued that Shakespeare has not contri-
buted much of incalculable worth : the point is that he found
a vast deal which he needed not to change. When Shake-
speare adds, IV. vii. 33 :
xc

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

' I think he '11 be to Rome INTRO-

As is the osprey to the fish, who takes it DUCTION

By sovereignty of nature/

he is turning prose into poetry. When he creates the
character of Menenius Agrippa from North's allusion to
' certaine of the plesauntest olde men,' he is turning narra-
tive into drama, as he is, too, in his development of Volumnia, Transfigura-
from a couple of references and one immortal speech. But ^i^"
these additions and developments can in no way minimise
the fact that he takes from North that speech, and the two
others which are the pivots of the play, as they stand.
There is the one in which Coriolanus discovers himself to
Aufidius. I take it from the Cambridge Shakespeare, and
print the actual borrowings in italics (iv. v. 53) :

' Cob. (Unmuffling) If, Tullus,

Not yet thou knowest me, and, seeing me, dost not

Think me for the man I am, necessity

Commands me to name myself, ...

My name is Caius Marcius, who hath done

To thee particularly, and to all the Volsces,

Great hurt and mischief; thereto witness may

My surname, Coriolanus : the painful service.

The extreme dangers, and the drops of blood

Shed for my thankless country, are requited

But with that surname ; a good memory.

And witness of the malice and displeasure

Which thou shouldst bear me : only that name remains ;

The cruelty and envy of the people.

Permitted by our dastard nobles, who

Have allybrsook me, hath devour'd the rest ;

And suifer'd me by the voice of slaves to be

Whoop'd out of Rome. Now, this extremity

Hath brought me to thy hearth : not out of hope —

Mistake me not — to save my life, for if

I hadfear'd death, of all men i' the world

I would have voided thee ; but in mere spite

To be full quit of those my banishers.

Stand I before thee here. Then if thou hast

A heart of wreak in thee, that wilt revenge

Thine own particular wrongs and stop those maims

Of shame seen through thy country, speed thee straight.

And make my misery serve thy turn : so use it

That my revengeful services may prove

As benefits to thee ; for I will fight

xci

INTRO-
DUCTION

Parallels and
Correspond-
ences

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

Against my canker'd country with the spleen
Of all the under fiends. But if so be
Thou darest not this and that to prove more fortunes
Thou 'rt tired, then, in a word, / also am
Longer to live most weary.'

The second, which is Volumnia's (v. iii. 94), is too long for
quotation. It opens thus :

' Should we be silent and not speak, our raiment
And state of bodies would bewray what life
We have led since thy exile. Think with thyself
How more unfortunate than all living women
Are we come hither ' ;

and here, to illustrate Shakespeare's method of rhythmical
condensation, is the corresponding passage in North. ' If
' we helde our peace (my sonne) and determined riot to speake,
' the state of our poore bodies, and present sight of our rai-
' ment, would easily bewray to thee what life we have led at
' home, since thy exile and abode abroad. But thinJce now
' with thyself howe much more unfortunately, then all the
' women livinge we are come hether.'' I have indicated by
italics the words that are common to both, but even so, I
can by no means show the sum of Shakespeare's debt, or so
much as hint at the peculiar glory of Sir Thomas's prose.
There is no mere question of borrowed language ; for North
and Shakespeare have each his own excellence, of prose and of
verse. Shakespeare has taken over North's vocabulary, and
that is much ; but it is more that behind that vocabulary
The Essential he should have found such an intensity of passion as would
in North fill the sails of the highest drama. North has every one of

Shakespeare's most powerful effects in his version of the
speech : ' Trust unto it, thou shalt no sorter marcJie forward to
' assault thy countrie, but thy foote shall treade upon thy
' mothers xoombe, that brought thee first into this world''; 'Doest
' thou take it honourable for a nobleman to remember the
' wrongs and injuries done him'; ' Tlwu hast not hitherto
' shewed thy poore mother any courtesy ' : these belong to
North, and they are the motors of Shakespeare's emotion.
The two speeches, dressed, the one in perfect prose, the other
in perfect verse, are both essentially the same under their
xcii

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

faintly yet magically varied raiment. The dramatic tension, INTRO-

the main argument, the turns of pleading, even the pause DUCTION

and renewal of entreaty, all are in North, and are expressed

by the same spoken words and the same gap of silence. In

the blank verse a shorter cadence is disengaged from the

ampler movement of prose ; here and there, too, a line is

added. 'To tear with thunder the wide cheeks o' the air,"

could only have been written by an Elizabethan dramatist ;

even as

* Wheu she, poor hen, fond of no second brood,
Has clucked thee to the wars, and safely home,'

could only have been written by Shakespeare. The one is Shakespeare
extravagant, the other beautiful ; but the power and the
pathos are complete without them, for these reside in the
substance and the texture of the mother's entreaty, which
are wholly North's. It is just to add that, saving for some North
crucial touches, as in the substitution of ' womb "■ for ' corps,'
they belong also to Amyot. To the mother's immortal
entreaty there follows the son's immortal reply : the third
great speech of Shakespeare's play. It runs in Amyot ; ' " O Amyot
" mere, que m'as tu fait ? " et en luy serrant estroittement
la main droitte : " Ha," dit-il, " mei-e, tu as vaincu une vic-
"toire heureuse pour ton pais, mais bien malheureuse et
" mortelle pour ton filz : car je m'en revois vaincu, par toi
" seule." ' In North : ' " Oh mother, what have you done
" to me ? " And holding her hard by the right hand, " Oh
" mother," sayed he, " you have wonne a happy victorie for
" your countrie, but mortall and unhappy for your sonne ;
" for I see myself vanquished by you alone." ' North accepts An Heirloom
the precious jewel from Amyot, without loss of emotion or
addition of phrase : he repeats the desolate question, the
singultus of repeated apostrophe, the closing note of un-
paralleled doom. Shakespeare, too, accepts them in turn
fi'om North ; and one is sorry that even he should have
added a word.

What, it may be asked, led Shakespeare, amid all the The Reason of
power and magnificence of North's Plutarch^ to select his Shakespeare's
CoriolaiiuSy his Julius Cccsar^ and his Antonius ? The answer, Choice

xciii

1

Colour

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

INTRO- I think, must be that in Volumnia, Calpurnia and Portia,
DUCTION and Cleopatra, he found woman in her three-fold relation to
man, of mother, wife, and mistress. I have passed over
Shakespeare's Julius Ccesar ; but I may end by tracing in
his Antony the golden tradition he accepted from Amyot
and North. It is impossible to do this in detail, for
throughout the first three acts all the colour and the inci-
dent, throughout the last two all the incident and the
passion, are taken by Shakespeare from North, and by North
from Amyot. Enobarbus's speech (ii. ii. 194), depicting
the pageant of Cleopatra"'s voyage up the Cydnus to meet
Antony, is but North's ' The manner how he fell in love with
' her was this.' Cleopatra's harge with its poop of gold
and purple sails, and its oars of silver, which ' kept stroke,
' after the sound of the musicke qfjlutes ' ; her own person
in her pavilion, cloth of gold of tissue, even as Venus is
pictured ; her pretty boys on each side of her, like Cupids,
with their fans ; her gentlewomen like the Nereides, steering
the helm and handling the tackle ; the ' wonderful passing
' sweete savor of perfumes that perfumed the ay/iar/^-side ' ;
all down to Antony ' left post alone in the market-place in
' his Imperiall seate,' are translated bodily from the one
book to the other, with but a little added ornament of
Elizabethan fancy. Shakespeare, indeed, is saturated with
North's language and possessed by his passion. He is
haunted by the story as North has told it, so that he even
fails to eliminate matters which either are nothing to his
purpose or are not susceptible of di'amatic presentment : as
in I. ii. of the Folios, where you find Lamprias, Plutarch's
grandfather, and his authority for many details of Antony's
career, making an otiose entry as Lamprius, among the
characters who have something to say. Everywhere are
touches whose colour must remain comparatively pale unless
they glow again for us as, doubtless, they glowed for Shake-
speare, with hues reflected from the passages in North that
shone in his memory. For instance, when his Antony says
(i. i. 53) :

' To-night we '11 wander through the streets and note
The qualities of people/
xciv

Shakespeare
Possessed by
North

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

you need to know from North that 'sometime also when he INTRO-
' would goc up and downe the citie disguised like a slave in DUCTION
' the night, and would peere into poore men's windowes and
' their shops, and scold and brawl with them within the
' house ; Cleopatra would be also in a chamber- maides an'ay,
' and amble up and down the streets with him ' ; for the
fantastic rowdyism of this Imperial masquerading is all but To the Point
lost in Shakespeare's hurried allusion. During his first three ^^ ^^^^}^^^^
Acts Shakespeare merely paints the man and the woman who
are to suffer and die in his two others ; and for these por-
traits he has scraped together all his colour from the many
such passages as are scattered through the earlier and longer
portion of North's Antonius. Antony's Spartan endurance
in bygone days, sketched in Caesar's speech (i. iv. 59) —

' Thou didst driuk
The stale of horses and the gilded puddle
Which beasts would cough at : thy palate then did deign
The roughest berry on the rudest hedge ;
Yea, like a stag when snow the pasture sheets^
The barks of trees thou brousedst. On the Alps
It is reported thou didst eat strange flesh,
Which some did die to look on ' —

is thus originated by North : * It was a wonderful example
' to the souldiers, to see Antonius that was brought up in

* all fineness and superfluity, so easily to drink puddle water,

* and to eate wild fruits and rootes : and moreover, it
' is reported that even as they passed the Alpes, they did

* eate the barks of trees, and such beasts as never man tasted

' their flesh before.' For his revels in Alexandria, Shake- Colour
speare has taken 'the eight wild boars roasted whole' (ii.
ii. 183) ; for Cleopatra's disports, the diver who ' did hang a
' salt fish on his hook ' (ii. v. 17). In iii. iii. the dialogue with
the Soothsayer, with every particular of Antony's Demon
overmatched by Caesar's, and of his ill luck with Caesar at
dice, cocking, and quails ; in iii. x. the galley's name,
Antoniad ; and in iii. vi. Caesar's account of the coronation on
a ' tribunal silver''d,'' and of Cleopatra's ' giving audience ' in
the habiliment of the Goddess Isis, are other such colour
patches. And this, which is true of colour, is true also of

xcv

INTRO-
DUCTION

Incident

Antony and
Cleopatra, iv.
and V.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

incident in the first three Acts. The scene near Misenum
in II. vi.,with the light tallc between Pompey and Antony, is
hardly intelligible apart from North : * Whereupon Antonius
' asked him (Sextus Pompeius), " And where shall we sup ? "
' "There,"''' sayd Pompey; and showed him his admiral
' galley ..." that," said he, " is my father"'s house they
' " have left me."" He spake it to taunt Antonius because he
' had his father"'s house."* On the galley in the next scene,
the offer of Menas, 'Let me cut the cable,"* and Pompey''s
reply ' Ah, this thou shouldst have done and not have spoke
' on''t ! "' may be read almost textually in North : ' " Shall I
' " cut the gables of the ankers ? "'"' Pompey having paused a
' while upon it, at length answered him : " thou shouldst
' " have done it and never told it me."'"' ' In in. vii. the old
soldier"'s appeal to Antony not to fight by sea, with all his
arguments ; in ii. xi. Antony"'s offer to his friends of a ship
laden with gold ; in in. xii. his request to Caesar that he may
live at Athens ; in in. xiii. the whipping of Thyreus, with
Cleopatra's announcement, when Antony is pacified, that
' Since my lord Is Antony again, I will be Cleopatra — "* ^ all
these incidents are compiled from the many earlier pages of
North^'s A ntonius. But in the Fourth Act Shakespeare changes
his method : he has no more need to gather and arrange.
Rather the concentrated passion, born of, and contained in,
North''s serried narrative, expands in his verse — nay, ex-
plodes from it — into those flashes of immortal speech which
have given the Fourth Act of Antony and Cleopatra its place
apart even in Shakespeare. Of all that may be said of
North''s Plutarch^ this perhaps is of deepest significance :
that every dramatic incident in Shakespeare"'s Fourth Act is
contained in two, and in his Fifth Act, in one and a half
folio pages of the Antonius. Let me rehearse the incidents.
The Fourth Act opens with Antony ""s renewed challenge to
Caesar, and is somewhat marred by Shakespeare"'s too faithful
following of an error in North"'s translation.

' Let the old ruffian know
I have many other ways to die '

^ One of North's mistranslations : she kept Antony's birthday, not her own.
xcvi

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

is taken from North; but North has mistaken Amyot, INTRO-
who correctly renders Plutarch's version of the repartee, DUCTION
that * he (Antony) has many other ways to die ' : (' Cesar
' luy feit response, qiCil avoit beaucoup cTautre moiens de
' mourir que celuy la.'') In North, this second challenge
comes after (1) the sally in which Antony drove Cassar''s
horsemen back to their camp (iv, vii.) ; (2) the passage in
which he ' sweetly kissed Cleopatra, armed as he was,"" and
commended to her a wounded soldier (iv. viii.) ; (3) the subse-
quent defection of that soldier, which Shakespeare, harking
back to the earlier defection of Domitius, described by
North before Actium, develops into Enobarbus's defection
and Antony's magnanimity (iv. v.), with Enobarbus's re-
pentance and death (iv. vi. and ix.). In North, hard
after the challenge follows the supper at which Antony
made his followers weep (iv. ii.) and the mysterious music
portending the departure of Hercules (iv. iii.). The latter
passage is so full of awe that I cannot choose but quote.
Furthermore,' says North, ' the self same night within little ' 'Tis the god
of midnight, when all the citie was quiet, full of feare, and Hercules '
sorrowe, thinking what would be the issue and end of this
warre : it is said that sodainly they heard a marvelous
sweete harmonie of sundrie sortes of instruments of musicke,
with the crie of a multitude of people, as they had beene
dauncing, and had song as they use in Bacchus feastes, with
movinges and turninges after the manner of the satyres,
and it seemed that this daunce went through the city unto
the gate that opened to the enemies, and that all the troupe
that made this noise they heard went out of the city at that
gate. Now, such as in reason sought the interpretation of
this wonder, thought that it was the god unto whom Antonius
bare singular devotion to counterfeate and resemble him,
that did forsake them.' ^ The incident is hardly susceptible
of dramatic representation, but Shakespeare, as it were
spellbound by his material, must even try his hand at a

^ Translated word for word from Amyot. Any one who cares to pursue
this tradition of beauty still further towards its sources will find that in the
Anionius Amyot was in turn the debtor of Leonardus Aretinus, who did the
life into Latin for the editio princeps (1470) of Campani.

n xcvii

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

Plutarch's
Realism

INTRO- miracle. Follows, in North, the treachery of Cleopatra's
DUCTION troops ; Antony's accusation of Cleopatra (iv. x. xi. and xii.);
Cleopatra's flight to the monument and the false message of
her death (iv. xiii.); Antony's dialogue with Eros, the suicide
of Eros, and the attempt of Antony (iv. xiv.) ; and the
death of Antony (iv. xv.). Every incident in Shakespeare's
Act is contained in these two pages of North ; and not only
the incidents but the very passion of the speeches. 'O
' Cleopatra,' says Antonius, ' it grieveth me not that I have
' lost thy companie, for I will not be long from thee ; but I
' am Sony, that having bene so great a captaine and em-
' perour, I am in deede condemned to be judged of less
' corage and noble minde then a woman.' Or take, again,
the merciless realism of Cleopatra's straining to draw Antony
up into the monument : — ' Notwithstanding Cleopatra would
' not open the gates, but came to the high windowes, and
' cast out certaine chaines and ropes, in the which Antony was
' trussed : and Cleopatra her oune selfe, with two women only,
' which she had suffered to come with her into these monu-
' ments, trised Antonius up. They that were present to
' behold it, said they never saw so pitiefull a sight. For
' they plucked poore Antonius all Isloody as he was, and
' drawing on with pangs of death, who holding up his hands
' to Cleopatra, raised up him selfe as well as he could. It
' was a hard thing for these women to do, to lift him up :
' but Cleopatra stooping downe with her head, putting to
' all her strength to her uttermost power, did lift him up
' v/ith much adoe, and never let goe her hold, with the helpe
' of the women beneath that bad her be of good corage, and
' were as sorie to see her labour so, as she her selfe. So
' when she had gotten him in after that sorte, and layed
' him on a bed : she rent her garments upon him, clapping
' her breast, and scratching her face and stomake. Then she
' dried up his blood that herayed his face, and called him her
' Lord, her husband, and Emperor, forgetting her miserie and
' calam,itie,Jor tJie pitie and compassion she took of him.'' In
all this splendour North is Amyot, and Amyot is Plutarch,
while Plutarch is but the reporter of events within the re-
collection of men he had seen living ; so that Shakespeare's
xcviii

A Traditiou
of Passion

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

Fourth Act is based on old-world realism made dynamic by INTRO-
North's incomparable prose. Then come Antony ""s call for DUCTION
wine and his last speech, which Shakespeare has taken with
scarce a change : 'And for himself, that she should not lament
' nor son'owe for the miserable chaunge of his fortune at the
' end of his dayes : but rather that she should thinke him
' the more fortunate, for the former triumphe and honors he
' had received, considering that while he lived he was the

* noblest and gi*eatest prince of the world, and that now he
' was overcome not cowardly, but valiantly, a Romane by
' another Romane.** In Shakespeare :

' Please your thoughts Its Supreme

In feeding them with those my former fortunes Expression

Wherein I liv'd : the greatest prince o' the world.
The noblest : and do now not basely die.
Not cowardly put off my helmet to
My countryman, a Roman by a Roman
Valiantly vanquished.'

To the end of the play the poet's fidelity is as close ; and
North's achievement in narrative prose is only less signal
than Shakespeare's in dramatic verse. Every characteristic
touch, even to Cleopatra's outburst against Seleucus, is in
North. Indeed, in the Fifth Act I venture to say that Shake-
speare has not transcended his original. There is in North An Over-
a speech of Cleopatra at the tomb of Antony, which can ill looked
be spared ; since it is only indicated in Shakespeare (v. ii. 303) Apostrophe
by a brief apostrophe —

' O, couldst thou speak,

That I might hear thee call great Csesar ass

Unpolicied ' —

which is often confused with the context addressed to the asp.
In North you read : ' She was carried to the place where his

* tombe was, and there falling downe on her knees, imbracing
' the tombe with her women, the teares running doune her
' cheekes, she began to speake in this sorte : " O my deare Lord
' " Antonius, not long sithence I buried thee here, being a free
' " woman : and now I offer unto thee the fiuierall sprinklinges
' " and oblations, being a captive and prisoner, and yet I am
' " forbidden and kept from tearing and murdering this captive

xcix

INTRO-
DUCTION

The Last
Splendour

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

" body of mine with blowes, which they carefully gard and
" keepe, only to triumphe of thee : looke therefore hence-
" forth for no other honors, oferinges, nor sacrifices from
" me, for these are the last which Cleopatra can geve thee,
" sith nowe they carie her away. Whilest we lived together
" nothing could sever our companies : but now at our death,
" I feare me they will make us chaunge our countries. For
" as thou being a Romane, hast been buried in Mgypt : even
" so wretched creatm'e I, an -Egyptian, shall be buried in
" Italic, which shall be all the good that I have received
" of thy contrie. If therefore the Gods where thou art now
" have any power and authoritie, sith our gods here have for-
" saken us : suffer not thy true friend and lover to be caried
" away alive, that in me, they triumphe of thee : but receive
" me with thee, and let me be burned in one selfe tombe with
" thee. For though my griefes and miseries be infinite, yet
" none hath grieved me more, nor that I could lesse beare
" withall : then this small time, which I had been driven to
" live alone without thee." ' Her prayer is granted. The
countryman comes in with his figs ; and then, ' Her death
was very sodaine. For those whom Caesar sent unto her
ran thither in all hast possible, and found the souldiers
standing at the gate, mistrusting nothing, nor understand-
ing of her death. But when they opened the dores, they
found Cleopatra starke dead, layed upon a bed of gold,
attired and araied in her royall robes, and one of her two
women, which was called Iras, dead at her feete ; and her
other woman called Charmion halfe dead, and trembling,
trimming the Diademe which Cleopatra ware upon her head.
One of the souldiers seeing her, angrily sayd unto her : " Is
" that well done, Charmion .? " " Verie well," sayd she againe,
" and meet for a Princes discended from the race of so many
" noble kings." She sayd no more, but fell doune dead hard
by the bed."*
I doubt if there are many pages which may rank with
these last of North's Antonius in the prose of any language.
They are the golden crown of his Plutarch^ but their fellows
are all a royal vesture wrapping a kingly body. For the
Parallel Lives is a book most sovereign in its dominion over
c

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

the minds of great men in every age. Henri iv,, in a love- INTRO-

letter, written between battles, to his young wife, Marie de DUCTION

Medicis, speaks of it as no other such hero has spoken of any

other volume, amid such dire surroundings and in so dear a

context. But if it has armed men of action, it has urged

men of letters. Macaulay claimed it for his ' forte ... to

' give a life after the manner of Plutarch,'' and he tells us

that, between the writing of two pages, when for weeks a

solitary at his task, he would ' ramble five or six hours over

' rocks and through copsewood with Plutarch."" Of good

English prose there is much, but of the world''s greatest

books in great English prose there are not many. Here

is one, worthy to stand with Malory''s Morte Darthur on

either side the English Bible.

GEORGE WYNDHAM.

01

'W

NOTE

This text is reprinted from

the Editio Princeps of

1579

THE LIVES OF

THE NOBLE GRECIANS
AND ROMANES

COMPARED TOGETHER BY THAT GRAVE LEARN-
ED PHILOSOPHER AND HISTORIOGRAPHER

PLUTARKE OF CHiERONEA

TRANSLATED OUT OF GREEKE INTO FRENCH BY

JAMES AMYOT

ABBOT OF BELLOZANE, BISHOP OF AUXERRE, OXE OF THE
KINGS PRIVY COUXSEL, AXD GREAT AMXER OF FRAUXCE

AND OUT OF FRENCH INTO ENGLISHE BY

THOMAS NORTH

1579

TO THE MOST HIGH AND
MIGHTY PRINCESSE

ELIZABETH

BY THE GRACE OF GOD, OF ENGLAND, FRAUNCE

AND IRELAND QUEENE

DEFENDER OF THE FAITH *. ETC.

NDER hope of your highnes
gratious and accustomed favor,
I have presumed to present here
unto your Majestie, Plutarkes
lyves translated, as a booke fit to
be protected by your highnes, and
meete to be set forth in Englishe. For who is fitter
to give countenance to so many great states, than
such an highe and mightie Princesse ? who is fitter
to revive the dead memorie of their fame, than she
that beareth the lively image of their vertues ?
who is fitter to authorize a worke of so great
learning and wisedome, than she whome all do
honor as the Muse of the world? Therefore I

humbly beseech your Majestie, to suffer the

J3

THE

EPISTLE
DEDICA-
TORY

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

simplenes of my translation, to be covered under
the amplenes of your highnes protection. For,
most gracious Sovereigne, though this booke be
no booke for your INIajesties selfe, who are meeter
to be the chiefe storie, than a student therein, and
can better understand it in Greeke, than any man
can make it Englishe : yet I hope the common
sorte of your subjects, shall not onely profit them
selves hereby, but also be animated to the better
service of your Majestic. For amonge all the
profane bookes, that are in reputacion at this day,
there is none (your highnes best knowes) that
teacheth so much honor, love, obedience, rever-
ence, zeale, and devocion to Princes, as these lives
of Plutarke doe. Howe many examples shall your
subjects reade here, of severall persons, and whole
armyes, of noble and base, of younge and olde,
that both by sea and lande, at home and abroad,
have strayned their wits, not regarded their states,
ventured their persons, cast away their lives, not
onely for the honor and safetie, but also for the
pleasure of their Princes ?

Then well may the Readers thinke, if they have
done this for heathen Kings, what should we doe
for Christian Princes ? If they have done this for
glorye, what shoulde we doe for religion ? If they
have done this without hope of heaven, what

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

should we doe that looke for immortalitie ? And the
so adding the encouragement of these exsamples, DEDiCi"
to the forwardnes of their owne dispositions : TORY
what service is there in warre, what honor in
peace, which they will not be ready to doe, for
their worthy Queene ?

And therefore that your highnes may give grace
to the booke, and the booke may doe his service
to your Majestic : I have translated it out of
French, and doe here most humbly present the
same unto your highnes, beseeching your Majestic
with all humilitie, not to reject the good meaning,
but to pardon the errours of your most humble
and obedient subject and servaunt, who prayeth
God long to multiplye all graces and blessings
upon your Majestic. Written the sixteene day
oflanuary. 1579.

Your Majesties most humble and
obedient servaunt,

THOMAS NORTH.

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

1

i

TO THE READER

HE profit of stories, and the prayse of the
Author, are sufficiently declared by Amiot,
in his Epistle to the Reader: So that I
shall not neede to make many wordes
thereof. And in deede if you will supply
the defects of this translation, with your
owne diligence and good understanding :
you shall not neede to trust him, you may
prove your selves, that there is no prophane studye better
then Plutarke. All other learning is private, fitter for
Universities then cities, fuller of contemplacion than experi-
ence, more commendable in the students them selves, than
profitable unto others. Whereas stories are fit for every
place, reache to all persons, serve for all tymes, teache the
living, revive the dead, so farre excelling all other bookes, as it
is better to see learning in noble mens lives, than to reade it
in Philosophers writings. Nowe for the Author, I will not
denye but love may deceive me, for I must needes love him
with whome I have taken so much payne : but I beleve I
might be bold to affirme, that he hath written the profit-
ablest story of all Authors. For all other were fayne to
take their matter, as the fortune of the contries whereof
they wrote fell out : But this man being excellent in wit,
learning, and experience, hath chosen the speciall actes of
the best persons, of the famosest nations of the world. But
I will leave the judgement to your selves. My onely purpose
is to desire you to excuse the faults of my translation, with
your owne gentlenes, and with the opinion of my diligence
and good entent. And so I wishe you all the profit of the
booke. Fare ye well. The foure and twenty day of January.
1579.

THOMAS NORTH.
7

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

AMIOT TO THE READERS

HE reading- of hookes which bring but a
vayne and unprojitable pleasure to the
Reader, is justly misliked of wise and
grave men. Againe, the reading of such
as doe but onely bring profit, and make
the Reader to be in love therewith, and doe
not ease the payne of the reading by some
pleasauntnes in the same : doe seeme some-
what harshe to divers delicate wits, that can not tary long
iipon them. But such bookes as yeeld pleasure and projit, and
doe both delight and teache, have all that a man can desire
why they should be universally liked and allowed of all sortes
of men, according to the common saying of the Poet Horace:

That he which matcheth profit with delight,
Doth winne the price in every poynt aright.

Eyther of these yeeld his effect the better, by reason the one
runneth with the other, profiting the more bicause of the
delight, and deliting the more bicause of the projit. This
commendacion {iri my opinion) is most proper to the reading
of stories, to have pleasure and profit matched together, which
kind of delight and teaching, meeting in this wise arvie in
arme, hath more allowance than any other kind of writing
or invention of man. In respect whereof it may be reasonably
avowed, that men are more beholding to such good wits, as by
their grave and wise writing have deserved the name qj
Historiographers, then they are to any otlier kind of writers :
bicause an historic is an orderly register of notable things
sayd, done, or happened in tyme past, to mainteyne the con-
tinuall remembraunce of them, and to serve for the instruction
of them to come.

8

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

And like as memorie is as a storehouse of mens conceits and AMIOT
devises, without the which the actions of the other two partes TO THE
shoidd he imperfect; and xvelneare unprofitable: So may it READERS
also he sai/d, that an historic is the very treasury of mans life,
whereby the notable doings and sayings of men, and the
wonderjidl adventures and straunge cases {which the long
contijiuance of time bringeth forth) are preserved from the
death oj forgetfalnes. Hereuppon it riseth, that Plato the
wise sayth, that the name of historic was given to this record-
ing of ^natters, to stay the fleeting of our memorie, which
otherwise would be soone lost, and retayne litle. And we may
well perceive how greatly we be beholding unto it, if we doe no
more bid consider in how horrible darkoies, and in hoxv beastly
and pestilent a quamyre qfignoraunce we should be phmged: if
the remembraunce of' all the thinges that have bene done, and
have happened before we xoere borne, ivere utterly droxvned and
forgotten. Now therefore I xvill overpasse the excellencie and
worthines of the thing it selfe, forasmuch as it is not onely
of more antiquitie then any other kind of writing that ever
was in the worlde, bid also was used among men, before
there was any use of letters at all : bicause that men in those
dayes delivered in their lifetimes the remembrance of things
past to their successors, in songes, which they caused their
children to learne by hart, J'rom hand to hand, as is to be
scene yet in our dayes, by thexample of the barbarous people
that inhabite the new found landcs in the West, who without
any records of writings, have had the knowledge of thinges
past, welneare eyght hundred yeares afore. Likewise I leave
to discourse, that it is the surest, scifest, and durablest monu-
ment that men can leave of their doings in this world, to con-
secrate their names to immortalitye. For there is nether
picture, nor image of marble, nor arch of triumph, nor piller,
nor sumptuous sepidchre, that can match the durablenes of
an eloquent history, furnished with the properties which it
ought to have. Again, I mind not to stand much upon this,
that it hath a certain troth in it, in that it alwaies professeth
to spedke truth, and for that the proper ground thereof is to
treate of the greatest and highest thinges that are done in the
world : insomuch that {to my seming) the great projit thereof

B 9

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

AMIOT is as Horace saith, that it is commonly called the viother of
TO THE troth and uprightnes, which commcndeth it so greatly, as it
READERS needeth not elswhere to seeke any authority, or ornament of'
dignitie, but of her very selfe. For it is a cei'taine ride and.
instruction, ivhich by examples past, teacheth us to Judge of
thinges present, and to ^foresee things to come: so as we may
know what to like of, and what to follow, what to mislike, and
what to eschew. It is a picture, xohich (as it were in a table)
setteth before our eies the things worthy of rem£mhrance that
have bene done in olde time by mighty nations, noble kings
and Princes, wise governors, valiant Captaines, and persons
renowmed for some notable qualitie, representing unto us the
maners of straunge nations, the lawes and customs of old
time, the particular affaires qf men, their considtations and
enterprises, the meanes that they have used to compasse them
withall, and their demeaning of them selves when they were
comen to the highest, or throwen down to the lowest degre of
state. So as it is not possible for any case to rise either in
peace or warre, in publike or private affayres, but that the
person which shall have diligently red, well conceived, and
throughly remembred histories, shall find matter in them
xvhereat to take light, and counsell whereby to resolve him
selfe to take a part, or to give advise wito others, how to
choose in doubtfidl and daungerous cases that, which may be
for their most profit, and in time to find out to what poynt
the matter will come fit be well handled : and how to moderate
him sefe in prosperitie, and how to cheere up and beare him
sefe in adversitie. These things it doth with much greater
grace, efficacie, and speede, than the bookes of morall Philo-
sophic doe: forasmuch as examples are of more force to
move and instruct, than are the arguments and proqfes of
reason, or their precise precepts, bicause examples be the very
formes of our deedes, and accompanied with all circumstances.
Whereas reasons and demonstrations are generall, and tend
to the proof e of things, and to the becding of them into under-
standing: and examples tende to the shewing of them in
practise and execution, bicause they doe not onely declare what
is to be done, but also worke a desire to doe it, as well in
respect of a certaine naturall inclination which all men have
10

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

tojhlloic i'd-mnples, as also for the beautie of vertue, which is
of such pOiCer, that ^wheresoever she is seene, she maketh her
selfe to be loved and liked. Againe, it doth thinges xvith
greater weight and gravitie, than the inventiojis and devises
of the Poets : bicause it helpeth not it selfe with any other
thing than xvith the plaine truth, whereas Poetry doth com-
monly inrich things by commending them above the starrs and
their deserving, bicause the chiefe intent thereof is to delight.
Moreover, it doth tliinges zoith more grace and modestie than
the civill leaves and ordinances doe : bicause it is more grace
for a man to teach and instruct, than to chastise or punish.
And yet for all this, an historic also hath his maner of pun-
ishing the ivicked, by the reproch of everlasting irtfamie,
wherewith it dcfaceth their remembrance, zvhich is a great
meane to xvithdraw them from vice, who otherwise would be
lewdly and wickedly disposed. Likewise on the contrary
parte, the immortall praise and glorye wherezvith it rewardeth
zvell doers, is a very lively and sharpe spurrefor men of noble
corage and gentlemanlike nature, to cause them to adventure
upon all mancr of noble ami great thinges. For bookes are
full of examples of men of high courage and wisedom, who
for desire to continue the remembraunce of their name, by the
sxire and certaine recorde of histories, have willingly yeelded
their lyves to the service of the common zveale, spent their
goods, susteyned infinite peynes both of body and mind in
defence of the oppressed, in making common buildings, in
stablishing of lawes and governments, and in the finding out
ofartes and sciences necessary Jbr the maintenance and orna-
ment of mans life : for the faithfull registring whereof, the
thanke is due to histories. A nd although true vertue seeke no
reward of her commendable doinges like a hyreling, but con-
tenteth her selfe zvith the conscience of her zvell doing : yet
notwithstanding I am of opinion, that it is good and meete to
drazo men by all meanes to good doing, and good men ought
not to be forbidden to hope for the honor of their vertuous
deedes, seeing that honor doth naturally accompany vertue, as
the shadowe doth the bodye. For we commonly see, not to
feele the sparkes of desire of honor, is an i) fallible signe of a
base, vile, and cloynish nature : and that such as account it

11

AMIOT

TO THE

HEADERS

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

AMIOT an unnecessary, needelesse, or unseemely thing to he praysed,
TO THE are likewise no doers of any thinges worthy of pray se, hut are
READERS commonly men oj faint corage, whose thoughtes extende no
further than to their lives, whereof also they have no further
remembraunce, than is hefore their eyes. But if the counsell
of olde men he to be greatly esteemed, hicause they must needes
have scene much hy reason of their longe Ife : and if they
that have travelled longe in straunge contries, and have had
the managing of many affayres, and have gotten great ex-
perience of the doings of this xoorlde, are reputed for sage,
and xmrthy to have the reynes of greate governments put into
their handes : howe greatly is the reading of histories to he
esteemed, zvhich is able to furnishe us with moe examples in
one daye, than the whole course of the longest Ife of any man
is able to doe. Insomuch that they which exercise them selves
in reading" as they ought to doe, although they he hut young,
become such in respect of understanding of the affayres of this
world, as if they were olde and grayheaded, and of long
experience. Yea though they never have removed out of their
houses, yet are they advertised, informed, and satisfied of all
things in the world, as zvell as they that have shortned their
lives by innumerable travells and hifinite daungers, in ronning
over the whole earth that is inhabited : whereas on the contrary
part, they that are ignorant of the things that were done and
come to passe before they were borne, continue stil as children,
though they be never so aged, and are hut as straungers in
their owne native contries. To he short, it may he truely sayd,
that the reading of histories is the schole of zvisedom, to facion
mens understa^iding, hy considering advisedly the state of the
world that is past, and by marking diligently by what lawes,
maners, and discipline, Empires, kingdoms and dominions,
have in old time bene stahlished, and afterward mainteyned
and increased : or contrarizvise chaunged, diminished, and
overthrowen. Also we reade, that whensoever the right sage
and vertuous Emperour of Rome, Alexander Severus, was to
consult of any matter of great importance, whether it con-
cerned warres or government: he alwayes called such to
counsell, as were reported to he well scene in histories. Not-
zvithstanding, I know there are that will stand against me in
12

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

this poynt, and uphold that the reading' of histories can serve
to small purpose, or none at all, towards the getting of skill :
hicause skill consisteth in action, and is ingendred by the very
experience and practise of things, when a man doth xvel marke
and throughly beare away the things that he hath scene tvith
his eyes, and found true by proof e, according to the saying of
the aundent Poet Afranius :

My name is skill, my Syre Experience hyght,
And memorie bred and brought me forth to lyght.

Which thing was ment likewise by the Philosopher that
sayd, that the hand is the instrimient of skill. By reason
whereof it comes to passe (say they) that stich as speake of
matters of government and state, but specially of matters of
warre by the booke, speake but as booke knights, as the Frenche
proverbe termeth them, after the manner of the Grcecians, who
call him a booke Pilot, zohich hath not the sure and certaine
knowledge of the things that he speakes of : meaning thereby,
that it is not for a man to trust to the understanding which
he hath gotten by reading, in things that consist in the deede
doing, where the hand is to be set to the xoorke : no more then
the often hearing of men talke and reasoii of paynting, or the
disputing uppon colors, without taking of the pensill in hand,
can stand a man in any stead at all to make him a good
paynter. But on the contrary piart, many have pi'oved wise
men and good Captaines, zohich could neither zvrite nor reade.
Besides this, they alleage further, that in matters of warre,
all things alter from yeare to yeare : by meanes whereof the
slights and policies that are to be learned out of bookes, will
serve the turne no more than mynes that are blozaen up.
According whereunto Cambyses telleth his sonyie Cyrus in
Xenophon, that like as in Musicke the nezvest songs a?'e com-
mmdy best liked of for once, bicause they zoere never heard
afore : So in the war res, those policies that never were practised
afore, are those that take best successe, and commonly have
the best effect, bicause the enemies doe least doubt of them.
Neverthelesse I am not he that will mainteyne that a wise
governor of a common weale, or a great Captaine can be made
of such a person, as hath never travelled out of his study, and

13

AMIOT

TO THE

READERS

AMIOT

TO THE

READERS

Three things
necessary for
a Magistrate,
or Captaine.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

from his bookes : howbeit that which Cicero writeth of Lucius
LucuUus^ is true^ that when he departed out of Rome as
Captaine gene7-all and Lieuetenant of the Romanes, to make
warre against kinge Mithridates, he had no experience at all
of the loarres, and yet afterward he bestowed so great diligence
in the reading of histories, and in conferring- uppon every
•poynt with the olde Captaines and men of longe experience,
whome he caried with him, that by the tyme of his comming
into Asia, where he xvas in deede to put his matters in execu-
tion, he was found to be a very sufficient Captaine, as appeared
by his deedes : insomuch that by those wayes, cleane contrary
to the common oi'der of warre, he discomfited two of the most
puyssant, and greatest Princes that were at that time in the
East. For his understanding was so guicke, his care so
vigilant, and his courage so greate, that he needed no longe
trayning, nor grosse instruction by experience. And although
I graimt there have beene diverse Governors and Captaynes,
which by the onely force of nature {furthered by longe con-
tinewed experience) have done goodly and greate exploytes :
yet can it not be denyed me, hit that if they had matched the
gftes of nature with the knowledge of learning, and the
reading of histories, they might have done much greater
thinges, and they might have becomen much more perfect.
For like as in every other cunning and skill wherein a man
intendeth to excell : so also to become a perfect and sufficient
person to governe in peace and warre, there are three thinges
of necessitie I'eguired, namely, nature, art, and practise.
Nattire {in the case that we treate of) must furnishe us with
a good moother wit, with a bodie well disposed to indm-e all
maner of travell, and with a good will to advaunce our selves :
Art must geve us judgement and kyioxoledge, gotten by the
examples and wise discourses that we have read and double
read in good histories : and practise will get us readinesse,
assurednesse, and the ease how to put thinges in execution.
For though skill be the ruler of doing the deede, yet it is a
vertue of the minde which teacheth a man the meane poynt,
betweene the two faultie extremities of too much and too title,
wherein the commendation of all doinges consisteth. And
whosoever he is that goeth about to attaine to it by the onely
14

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

triall of expeneywe^ and had lever to learne it at his oxvne cost, AMIOT

than at an other mans: he may well be of' the number of' those TO THE

that are touched by this aunc'ient proverbe, which sayth, READERS

Experience is the schoolcmistresse qfj'ooles : bicause mans life Proverbe.

is so short, and experience is hard and daitngerons, specially

in matters of xvarrc, xchere'in {according- to the saying of

Tamachus the Athenian Captaine) a man can not fault tzcice,

bicause the faidtes are so great, that most commonly they

bring w'lth them the overthrow of the state, or the losse of the

lives of those that do them. Therefore we must not tary for

this wit that is ivon by experience, xchich costeth so deere, and

is so long a comming, that a man is oftt'imes dead in the

seeking of it before he have attained it, so as he had neede of

a seconde life to imploy it in, bicause of the overlate comming

by it. But we must make speede by our diligent and con-

tinuall reading- of histories both old and new, tJiat we may

enjoy this happinesse zvhich the Poet speaketh of:

A happie wight is he that by mishappes
Of others, doth beware of afterclappes.

By the way, as concerning those that saye that paper will
beare all things : if there be any that unworthily take upon
them the name of histor'iographers, and deface the dignity cyf
the story for hatred or foivor, by mingling any untrueth with
it: that is not the foiult of the historic, but of the men that
are partial!, xcho abuse that name iinxoorthily, to cover and
cloke their oxvne passions withall, xchich thing shall never
come to passe, if the xcriter of the stor'ie have the properties
that are necessarily required in a stor'ie xoriter, as these : That
he set aside all qffect'wn, be voyde of envy, hatred and flattery :
that he be a man experienced in the affa'ires of the xcorld, of
good utterance, and good judgement to discerne xchat is to be
sayd, and what to be left unsay d, and xchat xcoidd do more
harme to have it declared, than do good to have it 7-eproved or
condemned : forasmuch as his chiefe drift ought to be to serve
the common weale, and that he is but as a register to set downe
the judgements and definitive sentences of Gods Court, whereof
some are geven according to the oj'd'inar'ic course and capacitie
of our weake naturall reason, and other some goe according to

15

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

AMIOT Gods infinite power and incomprehensible wisedom, above and
TO THE against all discourse of mans understanding, who being unable
READERS to reach to the bottome of his judgements, and to Jiiide out the
first motions and groundes thereof, do impute the cause of
them to a cei-taine fortune, which is nought else but a fained
device of mans xvit, dazeled at the beholding of such bright-
nesses and confounded at the gaging of so bottomlesse a deepe,
howbeit nothing commeth to passe nor is done withoict the
leave of him that is the verie right and tru£th it selfe, with
whom nothing is past or to come, and who hnoweth and under-
standeth the very origiyiall causes of all necessitie. The con-
sideration whereof teacheth men to humble them selves under his
mightie hande by acTinoxvledging that there is one first cause
which ovemdeth nature, whereof it commeth, that neither
hardinesse is alwaies happie, nor wisedom alwaies sure of good
successe. These so notable commodities are every where accom-
panied with singular delight, which proceedeth chiefly of
diversitie and novelty wherein our nature delighteth and is
greatly desiroiis of: bicause ive having an earnest inclination
towards our best prosperity and advauncement, it goeth on
still, seeking it in every thing which it taJceth to be goodly,
or good in this woi'ld. But forasmuch as it findeth not where-
% with to content it selfe under the cope of heaven, it is soone
weary of the things that it had earnestly desired aff^ore, and
so goeth on wandring in the unsJcilfulnes of her likings
wherqf site never ceasseth to make a continuall chaunging
untill she have fully satisfied her desires, by attaining to the
last end, which is to be knit to her chief e felicity, whei'e is the
full perfection of cdl goodlines and goodnes. This liking of
varietie can not be better releeved, than by that zvhich is the
finder out and the preserver of time, the father of all noveltie,
and messenger of antiguitie. For if we Jinde a certaine
singidar pleasure, in hearkening to such as be returned from
some long voyage, and doe report things which they have
scene in straunge contries, as the maners qf people, the natures
of places, and the fashions qf lives, differing from ours : and
(f we be sometime so ravished zvith delight and pleasure at
the hearing of the talke of some raise, discreete, and well
spoken old man, from whose mouth there Jloweth a streame qf
16

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

speech szveeter than honnie, in rehearsing the adventures which
he hath had in his greene and youthfull yeares, the paines that
he hath indured, and the perills that he hath overpassed^ so as
zee perceive not how the time goeth away : how much more
(night we he ravished with delight and wondring, to behold
the state of' manlcind, and the tnie successe of' things, which
antiguitie hath and doth bring forth Jrom the heginn'ing of
the world, as the setting up of Empires, the overthrow of
Monarchies, the r'ls'ing and fall'ing of Kingdoms, and all
things else worthie adviiration, and the same lively set forth
in the fair e, rich, and true table of eloqtience? And that so
lively, as in the very reading of them zee feele our mindes to
be so touched by them, not as though the thinges were alreadie
done and past, but as though they zoere even then presently in
doing, and zcefinde our selves caried azvay zcith gladnesse and
grief'e thrmigh feare or hope, well neere as though we were
then at the do'ing of them : whereas notwithstand'ing we be not
in any paine or daicnger, bid only conceive in mir mindes the
adversities that other folkes have indured, our selves sitting
safe with our contentcd'ion and ease, according to these verses
of the Poet Lucretiiis :

It is a pleasure for to sit at ease

Upon the land, and safely thence to see

How other folkes are tossed on the seaes,

That with the hlustring windes turmoyled he.

Not that the sight of others miseries

Doth any way the honest hart delight,

But for bicause it liketh well our eyes.

To see harmes free that on our selves might light.

/ Also it is scene that the reading of histories doth so holde
^ and allure good wits, that divers t'lmes it not only maJceth
them to forget all other pleasures, bid also serveth very jittely
to turne azoay their griefes, and somtimes also to i-emed'ie their
diseases. As for example, zee find it zoritten of Alphonsus
King of Naples, that Prince so greatly renowmed in Chronicles
for his zoisedom and goodnesse, that being sore sicJce in the
citie of Capia, when his Phisitions had spent all the cunning
that they had to recover him his health, and he saw that
nothing- prevailed: he determined zv'ith Mm selfe to take no
C 17

AMIOT

TO THE

READERS

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

AMIOT mo medicines, hutjbr his recreacion caused the storie of Quintus
TO THE Curtius, concernirig the deedes of Alexander the great, to he
READERS red before him : at the hearing whereof he tooke so wonderjull
pleasure, that nature gathered strength hy it, and overcame
the waywardnes of his disease. Whereicpon having soone
recovered his helth, he discharged his Phisitions with such
words as these : Feast me no more with your Hippocrates and
Galene, sith they can no skill to helpe me to recover my helth :
hut well fare Quintus Curtius that coidd so good skill to helpe
me to recover my helth. Now f the reading and knowledge
of histories he deUghtfidl and profitable to all other kind of
folke : I say it is much more for great Princes and Kings,
bicause they have to do with charges of greatest weight aiul
difficultie, to be best stored zoith gftes and knowledge for the
discharge of their dueties : seeing the ground of stories is, to
treate of all maner of high matters of state, as war-res, battells,
cities, contries, treaties of peace and alliances, and therefore it
seemeth more fit for them, than for any other kiride of degrees
of men : bicause they being bred and brought up tenderly, and
at their ease, by reasoji of the great regard arid care that is
had cf their persons, (as meete is for so great states to have)
they take not so great paines in their youth for the learning
of things as behoveth those to take lohich will learne the noble
aimcient languages, and the pahfull doctrine comprehended
in Philosophic. Againe, when they come to mans state, their
charge calleth them to deale in great affaires, so as there
remaineth no exercise cf wit more coiivenient for them, than
the reading of histories in their ozone tunge, which without
paine is able to teache them even zoith great pleasure and ease,
xohatsoever the painfull zoorkes of the Philosophers concerning
the government of common weales can shewe them, to make
tJiem skilful in the well riding and governing of the people
and contries that God hath put under their subjection. But
the worst is, that they ever {or for the most part) have such
maner of persons about them as seeke nothing els but to please
them by all the wayes they can, and there are very fezo that
dare tell them the truth freely in all things : whereas on the
contrary part, an history fiattereth them not, but layeth open
before their eyes the faults and vices of mch as were like them
18

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

hi greatnesse of degree. And therefore Demetrius Phalereus
{a man renoiomed asxvelljbr his skill in the good government
of a common loeale, as for his excellent knowledge otherwise)
coicnselled Ptolomy, first king of j^gypt after the death of
Alexander the great^ that he should often and diligently reade
the bookes that treated of the government qfkingdomes^ bicause
{sayd he) thou shall Jinde many things there, which thy ser-
vaunts and familiar friendes dare not tell thee. Moreover,
this is another thinge, that suche great personages can not
easily travell out of the bounds of their dominions, to goe
view straunge contries as private persons doe : bicause the
jelousie of their estate, and the regarde of their dignitie,
7-equires that they should never be in place where another man
might commaund them. And often times for xvant of having
scene the contries, and knowen the people and Princes that are
their neighbours, they have adventured uppon attempts without
good ground: to avoyde the which, the instruction they may
have by the reading of histories, is one of the easiest and fittest
remedies that can be found. And though there were none
otlier cause then onely this last, surely it ought to induce
Princes to the often and diligent reading of histories, wherein
are written the heroicall deedes of wise and valiant men, speci-
ally of kings that have bene before them, the considering
xvliereqf may cause them to be desirous to become like them,
specially which were of stately and iwble courage : bicause the
seedes of Princely vertues that are bred zvith them selves, doe
tlien quicken them up with an emulacion towards those that
have beiw or are equall in degree with them, aswell in respect
qfnoblenes of bloud, as of greatnes of state, so as tlwy be loth
to give place to any person, and much lesse can find in their
harts to be outgone in glory of vertuous doinges. Whereof
innumerable examples might be allcaged, if the thing were not
so wel knowen of it self that it were much more against reason
to doubt of it, than needefidl to prove it. Therefore a man
may truely conclude, that an historic is the scholemistresse of
Princes, at zohose hand they may without payne, in zvay of
pastyme, and with singular pleasure learne the most part oj
the things that belonge to their office. Now, mcording to the
diversitie of the matter that it treat cth of, or the order and

19

AMIOT

TO THE

READERS

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

AMIOT manner of writing that it tiseth, it hath sondry names given
TO THE unto it : But yet among the rest there are two chiefe kinds.
READERS The one which setteth downe mens doings arid adventures at
length, is called by the common name of an historic : the other
which declareth their natures, sayings, and maners, is properly
named their lives. And altlwugh the ground of them both
doe cloze very neare in one, yet doth the one respect more the
things, and the otJier the persons: the one is more common,
and the other more private : the one concerneth more the
things that are zvithout the man, and the other the things thai
proceede from within : tlie one the events, the other the con-
sultacions : betwene the zvhich there is oftentymes great oddes,
according to this aunswer of the Persian Siramnes, to such as
marvelled how it came to passe, that his devises being so
politike had so unhappy successe : It is {quod he) bicause my
devises are wholly from my own ijivention, but the effects of
them are in the disposition of fortune and the king. And
surely amonge all those that ever have taken uppon them to
xorite the lives of famous men, the chiefe prerogative, by the
judgeme7it of such as are clearest sighted, is justly given to
the Greeke Philosopher Plutarke, borne in the citie of Choeronea
in the contry of Bceotia, a noble man, perfect in all rare know-
ledge, as his workes may well put men out of doubt, if they
lyst to read tliem through, wlio all his life long even to his
old age, had to deale in affayres of the common zveale, as he
him selfe witnesseth in divers places, specially in the treatise
which he intitled, Whether an olde man ought to meddle
with the government of a common weale or not : and who
had the hap and Jionor to be schoolemaster to the Emprour
Trajan, as is commonly beleeved, and as is expressely pretended
by a certaitie Epistle set before the Latin translation of his
matter's of state, zvhich (to say the truth) seemeth in my judge-
ment to be somewhat suspicious, bicause I find it not among
his workes in Greeke, besides that it speaketh as though the
booke zvere dedicated to Trajan, zvhich thinge is manifestly
disproved by the beginning of the booke, and by divers other
reasons. Yet notzvithstanding, bicause me thinkes it is sagely
and gravely written, and well beseeming him : I have set it
downe here in this place. ' Plutarke unto Trajan sendeth
20

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

greeting". I hww icell that the modestie of your nature zvas
not desirous of Sovereintie^ though you have ahcayes inde-
vored to deserve it by your honorable conversation : by reason
•wliereqf you have bene thought so much the worthier of it,
as you have bene ^faunde the Jurther erf from all am.bitio7i.
And there/ore I do now rejoice in yo\ir vertue and my for-
tune, if it be so great as to cause you to administer that
thing icith justice, xvhich you have obtained by desert. For
otherwise I am sure you have put your selfe in hazard of
great daungers, and vie in perill of slaunderous tongues,
bicause Rome can not cnvay with a zcicked Emperour, and the
common voyce of the people is alwaies wont to cast the faultes
of the schollers in the teeth of their schoolemaisters : as for
example : Seneca is railed upon by slaunderous tonges, for the
faultes of his scholler Nero : the scapes of Quintilians young
sdwllers are impided to Quintilian him selfe : and Socrates
is blamed, for being too myld to his hearers. But as for
you, thei'e is hope you shall doe all things well enough, so
you keepe you as you are. If you first set your selfe in
order, and tlien dispose all other things according to vertue,
all things shall Jail out according to your desire. I have set
you downe the meanes in icriting, which you must observe for
the well governing of your common weale, and have shelved
yo\L of how great force your behaviour may be in that behalfe.
If you thinke good to follow those thinges, you have Plutarke
for the directer and guider of your Ife: f not, I protest
unto you by this Epistle, that your falling into daunger to
tJie overthrow of the Empire, is not by tlie doctrine of Plutarke.''
This Epistle witnesseth plainly that lie was tlie schoolemaister
of Trajan, which thing seemeth to be avowed by this writing
of Suidas : Plutarke being borne in the citie of Chccronea in
Boeotia, was in the time of the Emperour Trajan, and somichat
affore. But Trajan honored him icith the dignitie of Consul-
ship, and commaunded the officers and Magistrates that were
throughout all the contrie of Illyria, that they should not do
any thing zoithout his counsell and aidhoritie. So doth Suidas
write of him. And I am of opinion, that Trcjan being so
wise an Emperour, would never liave done him so great honor,
if he had not thought him selfe greatly beholding to him for

21

AMIOT

TO THE

READERS

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

AMIOT some speciall cause. But the thing that maketh me most to beleve
TO THE it true, is, that the same goodnesse ayid Justice appeared to be
READERS naturally imprinted in most of Trajans sayings and doings,
whereof the paterne and mozvld (as a man might terme it) is
cast and set downe in Plutarkes Moi-alls, so as men may per-
ceive expressely, that the one coxdd well skill to performe rightly,
that which the other had taught wisely. For Dion writeth,
that among other honors which the Senate of Rome gave hy
decree unto Trajan, they gave him the title of the Good
Emperour. And Eutropius reporteth that even unto his time,
when a new Emperour came to he received of the Senate,
among the cries of good hansell, and the wishes of good lucke
that were made unto him, one was: Happier be thou than
Augustus, and better than Trajan. Howsoever the case
stoode, it is very certaine that Plutarke dedicated the collec-
tion of his Apothegmes unto him. But when he had lived a
long time at Rome, and was come home againe to his ozone
house, he Jell to writing of this excellent worke of Lives, which
he calleth Parallelon, as much to say, as a cupling or matching
togetJier, bicause he matcheth a Grecian with a Romane, setting
doivne their lives ech after other, and comparing them together,
as hejbunde any likenesse of nature, condicions, or adventw'es
betwext them, and examining what the one of them had better
or worser, greater or lesser than the other : which things he
doth with so goodly and grave discourse every where, taken
out of the deepest and most hidden secrets of morall and
naturall Philosophic, zoith so sage precepts and frutefull
instructions, with so effectuall commendation of vertue, and
detestation of vice, with so many goodly allegacions of other
authors, with so many Jit comparisons, and zoith so many high
inventions : that the booke may better be called by the name of
tlie Treasorie of all rare and perfect learning, than by any
other name. Also it is sayd, that Thcodorus Gaza, a Grecian
of singidar learning, and a worthie of the aiincient Greece,
being asked on a time by his familiar frendes {which saw him
so earnestly given to his studie, that lie forgate all other
things) zohat author he had leverest to choose, if he were at
that poynt that he must needes choose some one to holde him to
alone, did aunswere that he would choose Plutarke: bicause
22

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

that if they were all put together, there was no one both so
profitable, and so plea^aunt to read, as he. Sosius Senecio to
xohom he dedicateth his xoorke, zcas a Senator of Home, as
witnesseth Dion, who writeth that the three persons zohom
Trajan most loved and hoyiored, were Sosins, Parma, and
Celsiis, insomuch that he caused images of them to be set up.
True it is that he tvrote the lives of' many other men, which
the spitefulnes of time hath bereft us of, among which he him-
selfe maketh mention of the lives of Scipio Africanus, and
Metellus Numidicus. And I have red a litle Epistle of a
Sonne of his, whose name is not expressed, copied out of an
olde copie in the LiHrarie of S. Marke in Venice, wherein he
writeth to afrende of his, a register of all the bookes that his
father made : and there among the cupples of lives he setteth
downe the lives of Scipio and Epaminondas, and lastly the
lives of Augustus Cccsar, of Tiberius, of Caligula, of Claudius,
of Nero, of Galba, of Vitellius, and of Otho. But having
used all the diligence that I could in serching the chiefe
Libraries of Venice, and Rome, I could never find them out.
Onely I drew out certaine diversities of readinges, and many
corrections by conferring the old xmitten copies with the printed
bookes: which have stoode me in great stead to the under-
standing of many hard places : and there are a great number
of them which I have restored by conjecture, by the judgement
and lielpe of such men of this age, as are of greatest know-
ledge in humane learning. Yet for all this, there remaine
some places unamended, hoxcbeit very Jewe, bicause some lines
were wanting in the originall copies, wliereqf (to my seeming)
it was better Jbr vie to witnesse the want by marking it zoith
some starre : than to gesse at it with all adventure, or to adde
any thing to it. Now finally, if I have overshot my selfe in
any thing, as it is verie easie to do in so hard arid long a
zcorke, specially to a man of so small abilitie as I am : I
beseeche the Readers to wou£hsafe for my discharge, to admit
the excuse which the Poet Horace giveth me, where he sayth :

A man may well be overseene

In workes that long and tedious bene.

Specially sith that of so many good men, and men of skill

23

AMIOT

TO THE

READERS

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

AMIOT as have heretofore set hand to the translating of it, there was

TO THE Tiever yet any one found that went through with it in any

READERS language, at least zoise tliat I have seene or heard of: and

that such as have enterprised to translate it, specially into

Latin, have evidently witnessed the hardnesse thereof, as they

may easely perceive which list to coivferre their translations

with mine. Neverthelesse if it so fortune that men find not

the speech of this translation so fioioing, as they have found

some other of mine, that are abroad in mens hands : I beseech

the readers to consider, that the office of a fit translater, con-

sisteth not onely in the Jaithfull expressing of his authors

meaning, but also in a certaine resembling and shadowing out

of the forme of his style and the maner of his speaking: unlesse

he zvill commit the errour of some painters, who having taken

upon them to draxo a man lively, do paint him long where he

shoidd be shoi't, and grosse lohere he should be slender, and yet

set out the resemblance of his countenance naturally. For Jww

harsh or rude soever my speech be, yet am I sure that my

translation will be much easier to my contriemen, than the

Greeke copie is, even to such as are best practised in the Greeke

tonge, by reason of Plutarkes peculiar inaner of inditing,

which is rather sharpe, learned, and short, than plaine, polished,

and easie. At the hardest, although I have not compassed

my matters so happily as ye coulde have xcished and desired:

yet do I hope that your Loidships in reading it will hold the

parties good will excused, which hath taken such paines

in doing of it to profit you. And if my labor be so

happie, as to content you : God be praised for it,

which hath given me the grace to finish it.

24

THE TABLE OF THE NOBLE
GRECIANS AND ROMANES

compared by PLUTARKE of CHJERONEA

VOLUME I

THESEUS .
ROMULUS .
LYCURGUS .
NUMA POMPILIUS
SOLON .
PUBLICOLA .
THEMISTOCLES .
FURIUS CAMILLUS

PAGE 29)

68)

compared page 112

! compared

199

207
249)
282
320

y compared „ 277

D

THE LIVES OF THE NOBLE
GRECIANS AND ROMANES

compared together by that grave learned
Philosopher and Historiographer

PLUTARCHE OF CHiERONEA

THE LIFE OF THESEUS

IKE as historiographers describing the world

(frende Sossius Senecio) doe of purpose Sossius Sene-
referre to the uttermost partes of their cio a Senator
mappes the farre distant regions whereof ^^ ^o^^-
they be ignoraunt, with this note : these
contries are by meanes of sandes and
drowthes unnavigable, rude, full of veni-
mous beastes, Scythian ise, and frosen
seas. Even so may I (which in comparinge noble mens lives
have already gone so farre into antiquitie, as the true and
certaine historic could lead me) of the rest, being thinges
past all proofe or chalenge, very well say : that beyonde this
time all is full of suspicion and dout, being delivered us by
Poets and Tragedy makers, sometimes without trueth and
likelihoode, and alwayes without certainty. Howbeit, having
heretofore set foorth the lives of Lycurgus (which established
the lawes of the Lacedaemonians) and of king Numa Pom-
pilius : me thought I might go a litle further to the life of
Romulus, sence I was come so nere him. But considering
my selfe as the Poet ^Eschilus did :

What champion may with such a man compare ?

or who (thinke I) shalbe against him set ?
Who is so bold ? or who is he that dare

defend his force^ in such encounter met ?

In the end I resolved to match him which did set up the
noble and famous city of Athens, with him which founded
the glorious and invincible city of Rome. Wherein I would
wishe that the inventions of Poets, and the traditions of
fabulous antiquitie, would suffer them selves to be purged

29

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

THESEUS and reduced to the forme of a true and historicall reporte :

but when they square too much from likelyhode, and can not

be made credible, the readers will of curtesie take in good

parte that, which I could with most probability wryte of

Theseus and such antiquities. Now surely me thinkes, that Theseus in

Romulus very many thinges was much like unto Romulus. For being

^^" both begotten by stealth, and out of lawful matrimony :

both were reputed to be borne of the seede of the goddes.

Both valiant were^ as all the world doth know.

Both joyned valiancy with government. The one of them

built Rome, and the other, by gathering into one dispersed

people, erected the citie of Athens : two of the most noble

cities of the worlde. The one and the other were ravishers

of women : and neither thone nor thother coulde avoyde the

mischiefe of quarrell and contention with their frendes, nor

the reproch of staining them selves with the blood of their

nearest kinsemen. Moreover, they say that both the one

and the other in the end did get the hate and ill will of

their citizens : at the least if we will beleve that reporte of

The linage of Theseus, which carieth greatest show of trueth. Theseus of

Theseus. his fathers side, was descended of the right linage of Erictheus

the great, and of the first inhabitants which occupied the

contrie of Attica, the which since were called Autocthones,

as much to say, as borne of them selves. For there is no

memorie, or other mention made, that they came out of any

other contry then that. And of his mothers side he came of

Pelops, king Pelops, who was in his time the mightiest king of all the

ofPelopon- contrie of Peloponnesus, not so much for his goodes and

nesus. richesse, as for the number of children which he had. For

his daughters which were many in number, he bestowed on

the greatest Lordes of all the contrie : his sonnes also, which

likewise were many, he dispersed into diverse cities and free

townes, findinge meanes to make them governors and heades

Pitheus the of the same. Pitheus, grandfather to Theseus on the mothers

grandfather side, was one of his sonnes, and founded the litle city of

of Theseus. TrcEzen, and was reputed to be one of the wisest men of his

time. But the knowledge and wisedom, which onely caried

estimacion at that time, consisted altogether in grave

30

\

\

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

sentences, and morall sayinges. As those are which wanne THESEUS
the Poet Hesiodus such fame for his booke intituled, The The wisedom
workes and dayes : in the which is read even at this present, ^^ Pitheus.
this goodly sentence, which they father upon Pitheus :

Thou shalt performe, thy promise and thy pay :
to hyred merij and that without delay.

And this doth Aristotle the Philosopher himselfe testifie :
and the Poet Euripides also, calling Hippolytus the scholler
of the holy Pitheus, doth sufficiently declare of what estima-
cion he was. But iEgeus desiring (as they say) to know how Jilgeus the
he might have children, went unto the city of Delphes to father of
the oracle of Apollo : where by Apolloes Nunne that notable ^eseus.
prophecy was geven him for an aunswer. The which did for-
bid him to touch or know any woman, untill he was returned
againe to Athens. And bicause the words of this prophecy
were somewhat darke, and hard : he tooke his way by the
city of Troezen, to tell it unto Pitheus. The wordes of the
prophecy were these :

O thou which art a gemme of perfect grace,

plucke not the tappe, out of thy trusty toonne :
Before thou do, returne unto thy place,

in Athens towne, from whence thy race doth roonne.

Pitheus understanding the meaning, perswaded him, or
rather cunningly by some devise deceived him in such sorte,
that he made him to lye with his daughter called ^Ethra. ^thra the
^Egeus after he had accompanied with her, knowing that she daughter of
was Pitheus daughter with whom he had lyen, and douting ^'"^g' Pitheus,
that he had gotten her with child : left her a sword and a mother of
payer of shoes, the which he hidde under a great hollow Theseus,
stone, the hollownes wherof served just to receive those
things which he layed under it, and made no living creature
privy to it but her alone, straightly charging her, that if
she happened to have a sonne, when he were come to mans
state, and of strength to remove the stone, and to take those
things from under it which he left there : that she should
then sende him unto him by those tokens, as secretly as she
could, that no body els might knowe of it. For he did The Pallan-
greatly feare the children of one called Pallas, the which tides.

31

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

THESEUS laye in wayte and spyall by all the meanes they could to
kill him, only of despight bicause he had no children, they
Pallas had being fiftie brethern, and all begotten of one father. This
fiftie souues, done, he departed from her. And JEthra within fewe moneths
after was delivered of a goodly sonne, the which from that
Why Theseus time was called Theseus : and as some say, so called, bicause
was so called, of the tokens of knowledge his father had layed under the
stone. Yet some others write, that it was afterwardes at
Athens when his father knewe him, and avowed him for his
Sonne. But in the meane time, during his infancie and
childehood, he was brought up in the house of his grand-
father Pitheus, under the government and teaching of one
Connidas called Connidas, his schoolemaster : in honour of whom the
Theseus Athenians to this daye doe sacrifice a weather, the daye

schoole- before the great feaste of Theseus, having more reason to

honour the memorye of this governour, then of a Silanion
and of a Parrhasius, to whom they doe honour also, bicause
they paynted and caste mowldes of the images of Theseus.
A custome to Now there was a custome at that time in Grece, that the
offer heares yong men after their infancie and growth to mans state,
at Delphes. ^yent unto the cittie of Delphes, to offer parte of their heares
in the temple of Apollo. Theseus also went thither as other
did : and some saye that the place where the ceremonie of
this offering was made, hath ever sence kept the olde name,
Theseia, (and yet continueth) Theseia. Howbeit he dyd not shave

Theseus man- his head but before only, as Homer sayeth, like the facion of
er of shaving. i}iq Abantes in olde time : and this manner of shaving of
heares, was called for his sake, Theseida. And as concerning
The Abantes. the Abantes, in trothe they were the very first that shaved
them selves after this facion : nevertheles they learned it
not of the Arabians as it was thought of some, neither dyd
they it after the imitation of the Missians. But bicause
they were warlike and valliant men, which did joyne neere
unto their enemie in battell, and above all men of the worlde
were skilfuUest in fight hande to hande, and woulde keepe
their grounde : as the Poet Archilochus witnesseth in these
verses :

They use no slynges in foughten fields to have,

nor bended bowes : but swords and trenchant blades.
32

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

For when fierce Mars beginneth for to rave, THESEUS

in bloody field : then every man invades
His fiercest foe, and fighteth hand to hand.

then doe they deeds, right cruell to reconpt.
For in this wise, the brave and warlike bande

do shew their force which come from Negrepont.

The cause why they were thus shaven before, was, for that The cause of

their enemies should not have the vauntage to take them by shaving their

the heares of the head while they were fighting. And for ^^^'"^^ ^^^"''^•

this selfe same consideration, Alexander the great com- Alexander

maunded his captaines to cause all the Macedonians to ^^^8?,"^ m&de

shave their beards : bicause it is the easiest holde (and ^j^^^ shave"

readiest for the hande) a man can have of his enemie in ^heir beardes.

fighting, to holde him fast by the same. But to retume to

Theseus. iEthra his mother had ever unto that time kept

it secret from him, who was his true father. And Pitheus

also had geven it out abroade, that he was begotten of Theseus said

Neptune, bicause the Troezenians have this god in great ^^ "® Nep-

^,. jj 1. 1. , °j i, tunes Sonne,

veneration, and doe worshippe him as patron and protector

of their cittie, making offerings to him of their first fruites :
and they have for the marke and stampe of their money, the The Troeze-
three picked mace, which is the signe of Neptune, called his ^tamned^wi^h
Trident. But after he was comen to the prime and lustines Neptunes
of his youth, and that with the strength of his bodie he three picked
shewed a great courage, joyned with a naturall wisedome, and niace.
stayednes of wit : then his mother brought him to the place
where this great hollowe stone laye, and telling him truely
the order of his birth, and by whom he was begotten, made Theseus
him to take his fathers tokens of knowledge, which he had y^^^he.
hidden there, and gave him counsell to goe by sea to Athens
unto him. Theseus easilye lyft up the stone, and tooke his
fathers tokens from under it : Howbeit he answered playnely,
that he would not goe by sea, notwithstanding that it was
a great deale the safer waye, and that his mother and grand-
father both had instantly intreated him, bicause the waye
by lande from Troezen to Athens was very daungerous, all Great robbing
the wayes being besett by robbers and murderers. For the J? Theseus
worlde at that time brought forth men, which for strong- ^^t. i.
nesse in their armes, for swyftnes of feete, and for a generall
E 33

Hercules a
destroyer of
theeves.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

THESEUS strength of the whole bodye, dyd farre passe the common
force of others, and were never wearie for any labour or
travell they tooke in hande. But for all this, they never
employed these giftes of nature to any honest or profitable
thing, but rather delighted villanously to hurte and wronge
others : as if all the fruite and profit of their extraordinary
strength had consisted in crueltye, and violence only, and to
be able to keepe others under and in subjection, and to force,
destroye, and spoyle all that came to their handes. Thinck-
ing that the more parte of those which thincke it a shame to
doe ill, and commend justice, equitie, and humanitie, doe it
of fainte cowardly heartes, bicause they dare not wronge
others, for feare they should receyve wronge them selves :
and therefore, that they which by might could have vauntage
over others, had nothing to doe with suche quiet qualities.
Nowe Hercules, travailling abroade in the worlde, drave
awaye many of those wicked thevishe murderers, and some
of them he slewe and put to death, other as he passed
through those places where they kept, dyd hide them selves
for feare of him, and gave place : in so much as Hercules,
perceyving they were well tamed and brought lowe, made no
further reckoning to pursue them any more. But after that
by fortune he had slayne Iphitus with his owne handes, and
that he was passed over the seas into the countrye of Lydia,
Hercules serv- where he served Queene Omphale a long time, condemning
eth Omphale. him selfe unto that voluntarie payne, for the murder he had
committed. All the Realme of Lydia during his abode
there, remained in great peace and securitie from such kynde
of people, Howbeit in Grece, and all thereabouts, these
olde mischiefes beganne againe to renue, growing hotter
and violenter then before : bicause there was no man that
punished them, nor that durst take upon him to destroye
them. By which occasion, the waye to goe from Pelopon-
nesus to Athens by lande was very perillous. And therefore
Pitheus declaring unto Theseus, what manner of theeves there
were that laye in the waye, and the outrages and villanies
they dyd to all travellers and wayefaring men, sought the
rather to perswade him thereby to take his voyage alonge
the seas. Howbeit in mine opinion, the fame and glorie of
34

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

Hercules noble dedes, had long before secretly sett his hearte THESEUS
on fire, so that he made reckoning of none other but of him, Theseus
and lovingly hearkened unto those which woulde seeme to foloweth
describe him what manner of man he was, but chiefly unto Hercules,
those which had scene him, and bene in his companye, when
he had sayed or done any thing worthy of memorye. For
then he dyd manifestly open him selfe, that he felt the like
passion in his hearte, which Themistocles long time after-
wardes endured, when he sayed : that the victorie and
triumphe of Miltiades would not lett him sleepe. For even Desire of
so, the wonderfull admiration which Theseus had of Hercules fame pricketh
corage, made him in the night that he never dreamed but of '"^^ forward
his noble actes and doings, and in the daye time, pricked p^jfes*
forwardes with emulation and envie of his glorie, he deter-
mined with him selfe one daye to doe the like, and the
rather, bicause they were neere kynsemen, being cosins re-
moved by the mothers side. For ^thra was the daughter Theseus and
of Pitheus, and Alcmena (the mother of Hercules) was the Hercules nere
daughter of Lysidices, the which was halfe sister to Pitheus, *^ynsemen.
bothe children of Pelops and of his wife Hippodamia. So
he thought he should be utterly shamed and disgraced, that
Hercules travelling through the worlde in that sorte, dyd
seeke out those wicked theeves to rydde both sea and lande
of them : and that he, farre otherwise, should flye occasion
that might be offered him, to fight with them that he should
meete on his waye. Moreover, he was of opinion he should
greately shame and dishonour him, whom fame and common
bruite of people reported to be his father : if in shonning
occasion to fight, he should convey him selfe by sea, and
should carie to his true father also a paire of shooes, (to
make him knowen of him) and a sworde not yet bathed in
bloude. Where he should rather seeke cause, by manifest
token of his worthie deedes, to make knowen to the worlde,
of what noble bloude he came, and from whence he was
descended. With this determination, Theseus holdeth on
his purposed jorney, with intent to hurte no man, yet
to defende him selfe, and to be revenged of those which
woulde take upon them to assault him. The first there-
fore whom he slewe within the territories of the cittie

35

THESEUS

Periphetes
Corinetes, a
famous rob-
ber, slayne of
Theseus.

Theseus
caried the
clubbe he
wanne of Pe-
riphetes, as
Hercules did
the lions skin.

Sinnis Pityo-
camtes, a
cruel mur-
therer slaine.

Perigouna
Sinnis daugh-
ter.

Theseus be-
gatte Mena-
lippus of
Perigouna.
loxus, Mena-
lippus Sonne.
loxides.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

of Epidaurum, was a robber called Periphetes. This robber
used for his ordinarie weapon to carie a clubbe, and for
that cause he was commonly surnamed Corynetes, that is
to saye, a clubbe caryer. So he first strake at Theseus to
make him stande : but Theseus fought so lustely with him,
that he killed him. Whereof he was so glad, and chiefly
for that he had wonne his clubbe, that ever after he caryed
it him selfe about with him, as Hercules dyd the lyons
skynne. And like as this spoyle of the lyon dyd witnesse
the greatnes of the beast which Hercules had slayne : even
so Theseus went all about, shewing that this clubbe which
he had gotten out of anothers hands, was in his owne
handes invincible. And so groinff on further, in the streightes
of Peloponnesus he killed another, called Sinnis surnamed
Pityocamtes, that is to saye, a wreather, or bower of pyne
apple trees : whom he put to death in that selfe cruell
manner that Sinnis had slayne many other travellers before.
Not that he had experience thereof, by any former practise
or exercise : but only to shewe, that cleane strength coulde
doe more, then either arte or exercise. This Sinnis had a
goodly fayer daughter called Perigouna, which fled awaye,
when she sawe her father slayne : whom he followed and
sought all about. But she had hydden her selfe in a grove
full of certen kyndes of wilde pricking rushes called Stoebe,
and wilde sparage, which she simplye like a childe intreated
to hyde her, as if they had heard and had sense to vmder-
stand her : promising them with an othe, that if they saved
her from being founde, she would never cutt them downe,
nor burne them. But Theseus fynding her, called her, and
sware by his faith he would use her gently, and doe her no
hurte, nor displeasure at all. Upon which promise she
came out of the bushe, and laye with him, by whom she was
conceyved of a goodly boye, which was called Menalippus.
Afterwardes Theseus maried her unto one Deioneus, the
Sonne of Euritus the Oechalian. Of this Menalippus, the
Sonne of Theseus, came loxus : the which with Ornytus
brought men into the countrye of Caria, where he buylt the
cittie of loxides. And hereof cometh that olde auncient
ceremonie, observed yet unto this daye by those of loxides,
36

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

never to burne the bryars of wilde sparage, nor the Stoebe, THESEUS
but they have them in some honour and reverence. Touch-
ino- the wilde savage sowe of Crommyon, otherwise surnamed Phaea the
Phaea, that is to saye, overgrowen with age : she was not a wUde sowe of
beast to be made light account of, but was very fierce, and i'9"^"^yon
terrible to kyll. Theseus notwithstanding taryed for her,
and kylled her in his jorney, to the ende it shoulde not
appeare to the worlde, that all the valliant deedes he dyd,
were done by compulsion, and of necessitie : adding thereto
his opinion also, that a valliant main should not onely fight
with men, to defend him selfe from the wicked : but that he
should be the first, to assaulte and slaye wilde hurtefuU
beastes. Nevertheles others have written, that this Phaea Phaea a wo-
was a woman robber, a murderer, and naught of her bodye, "^^^ theefe.
which spoyled those that passed by the place called Crom-
myonia, where she dwelt : and that she was surnamed a
sowe, for her beastly brutishe behaviour, and wicked life, for
the which in the ende she was also slayne by Theseus, After
her he kylled Sciron, entring into the territories of Megara, Sciron a not-
bicause he robbed all travellers by the waye, as the common ^^^® robber,
reporte goeth : or as others saye, for that of a cruell, wicked, (jo^ng tjjg
and savage pleasure, he put forth his feete to those that rocks by
passed by the sea side, and compelled them to washe them. Theseus,
And then when they thought to stowpe to doe it, he still
spurned them with his feete, till he thrust them hedlong
into the sea : so Theseus threw him hedlong downe the
rockes, Howbeit the writers of Megara impugning this
common reporte, and desirous (as Simonides sayeth) to over-
throwe it that had continued by prescription of time : dyd
mainteine that this Sciron was never any robber, nor wicked
persone, but rather a pursuer and punisher of the wricked,
and a friend and a kynseman of the most honest, and j ustest
men of Grece, For there is no man but will confesse, that
iEacus was the most vertuous man among the Grecians in ^acus,
his time, and that Cychreus the Salaminian is honoured and Cychreus.
reverenced as a god at Athens : and there is no man also
but knoweth, that Peleus and Telamon were men of singular
vertue, Nowe it is certeine, that this Sciron was the sonne
in lawe of Cychreus, father in lawe of ^acus, and grand-

37

THESEUS

Cercyon the
Arcadian
slaine of
Theseus by
wrestling.

Damastes
Procrustes a
cruel mur-
therer, slaine
of Theseus.

Hercules
doings.

Termerus
evill.

Cephisus, a ri-
ver of Boeotia.

The Phy-
talides the
first men
that feasted
Theseus in
their houses.

This sacrifice
Plutarchecall-
eth Milichia.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

father of Peleus and of Telamon, the which two were the
children of Endeida, the daughter of the sayed Sciron, and
of his wife Charielo. Also it is not very likely, that so
many good men would have had affinitie with so naughty
and wicked a man : in taking of him, and geving him that,
which men love best of all things in the worlde. And
therefore the Historiographers saye, that it was not the
first time, when Theseus went unto Athens, that he killed
Sciron : but that it was many dayes after, when he tooke
the cittie of Eleusin, which the Megarians helde at that
time, where he deceyved the governour of the cittie called
Diodes, and there he slewe Sciron. And these be the objec-
tions the Megarians alledged touching this matter. He
slewe also Cercyon the Arcadian, in the cittie of Eleusin,
wrestling with him. And going a litle further, he slewe
Damastes, otherwise surnamed Procrustes, in the cittie of
Hermionia : and that by stretching on him out, to make
him even with the length and measure of his beddes, as he
was wont to doe unto straungers that passed by. Theseus
dyd that after the imitation of Hercules, who punished
tyrannes with the selfe same payne and torment, which they
had made others suffer. For even so dyd Hercules sacrifice
Busiris. So he stifled Antheus in wrestling. So he put
Cycnus to death, fighting with him man to man. So he
brake Termerus heade, from whom this proverbe of Termerus
evill came, which continueth yet unto this daye : for this
Termerus dyd use to put them to death in this sorte whom
he met : to jolle his head against theirs. Thus proceeded
Theseus after this selfe manner, punishing the wicked in
like sorte, justly compelling them tabyde the same payne
and torments, which they before had unjustly made others
abyde. And so he helde on his jorney untill he came to the
river of Cephisus, where certaine persones of the house of
the Phytalides were the first which went to meete him, to
honour him, and at his request they purified him according
to the ceremonies used at that time : and afterward es having
made a sacrifice of propitiation unto their goddes, they made
him great chere in their houses : and this was the first notable
enterteinment he founde in all his jorney. It is supposed
38

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

he arrived in the cittie of Athens, the eight daye of the THESEUS
moneth of June, which then they called Cronius. He found
the comon wealth turmoyled with seditions, factions, and
divisions, and perticularly the house of ^Egeus in very ill
termes also, bicause that Medea (being banished out of the
cittie of Corinthe) was come to dwell in Athens, and remained
with iEgeus, whom she had promised by vertue of certaine
medicines to make him to get children. But when she heard
tell that Theseus was comen, before that the good king
iEgeus (who was nowe becomen olde, suspitious, and affrayed
of sedition, by reason of the great factions within the cittie
at that time) knewe what he was, she perswaded him to Medea per-
poyson him at a feaste which they woulde make him as a swaded^Egeus
straunger that passed by. Theseus failed not to goe to this ji^^^^T^
prepared feaste whereunto he was bydden, but yet thought
it not good to disclose him selfe. And the rather to geve
JEgeus occasion and meane to knowe him : when they brought
the meate to the borde, he drewe out his sworde, as though
he woulde have cut with all, and shewed it unto him. ^geus ^Egeus ac-
seeing it, knewe it straight, and forthwith overthrewe the knowledgeth
cuppe with poyson which was prepared for him : and after v/gfnnp ^^
he had inquired of him, and asked thinges, he embraced him
as his Sonne. Afterwardes in the common assembly of the
inhabitants of the cittie, he declared, howe he avowed him for
his Sonne. Then all the people receyved him with exceeding
joye, for the ^eno^vne of his valiantnes and manhoode. And
some saye, that when JEgeus overthrewe the cuppe, the poyson
which was in it, fell in that place, where there is at this pre-
sent a certen compasse inclosed all about within the temple,
which is called Delphinium. For even there in that place, in
the olde time, stoode the house of vEgeus : in witnes whereof,
they call yet at this present time the image of Mercurye
(which is on the side of the temple looking towardes the rising
of the sunne) the Mercurye gate of iEgeus. But the Pallan-
tides, which before stoode allwayes in hope to recover the
realme of Athens, at the least after ^Egeus death, bicause he
had no children : when they sawe that Theseus was knowen,
and openly declared for his sonne and heir, and successour to
the Realme, they were not able any lenger to beare it, seeing

39

THESEUS

The Pallan-
tides take
armes against
^geus aud
Theseus.

Leos an Her-
auld bewray-
eth their
treason to
Theseus.

Theseus
killeth the
Pallantides.

The bull of
Marathon
taken alive by
Theseus.

Apollo
Delphias.

lupiter
Hecalian.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

that not onely iEgeus (who was but the adopted sonne of
Pandion, and nothing at all of the bloude royall of the
Erictheides) had usurped the Kingdome over them, but that
Theseus also should enjoye it after his death. Whereupon
they determined to make warre with them both, and dividing
them selves into two partes, the one came openly in armes
with their father, marching directly towardes the cittie : the
other laye close in ambushe in the village Gargettus, meaning
to geve charge upon them in two places at one instant.
Nowe they brought with them an Heraulde borne in the
towne of Agnus, called Leos, who bewrayed unto Theseus
the secret and devise of all their enterprise. Theseus upon
this intelligence went forth, and dyd set on those that laye
in ambushe, and put them all to the sworde. The other
which were in Pallas companie understanding thereof, dyd
breake and disparse them selves incontinently. And this is
the cause (as some saye) why those of Pallena doe never
make affinitie nor mariadge with those of Agnus at this
daye. And that in their towne when any proclamation is
made, they never speake these words which are cryed every
where els through out the whole countrye of Attica, Acouete
Leos^ (which is as muche to saye, as Hearken, O people) they
doe so extreamely hate this worde Leos, for that it was the
Herauldes name which wrought them that treason. This
done, Theseus who woulde not live idelly at home and doe
nothing, but desirous there withall to gratifie the people,
went his waye to fight with the bull of Marathon, the which
dyd great mischieves to the inhabitants of the countrye of
Tetrapolis. And having taken him alive, brought him
through the citie of Athens to be scene of all the inhabitants.
Afterwardes he dyd sacrifice him unto Apollo Delphias.
Nowe concerning Hecale, who was reported to have lodged
him, and to have geven him good enterteinment, it is not
altogether untrue. For in the olde time, those townes and
villages thereaboutes dyd assemble together, and made a
common sacrifice which they called Hecalesion, in the honour
of lupiter Hecalian, where they honoured this olde woman,
calling her by a diminutive name, Hecalena : bicause that
when she receyved Theseus into her house, being then but
40

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

very younge, she made muche of him, and called him by THESEUS

many prety made names, as olde folkes are wont to call

younge children. And forasmuche as she had made a vowe

to lupiter to make him a solemne sacrifice, if Theseus returned

safe from the enterprise he went about, and that she dyed

before his returne : in recompence of the good chere she had

made him, she had that honour done unto her by Theseus

commaundement, as Philochorus bathe written of it. Shortely

after this exployte, there came certaine of King Minos am-

bassadours out of Creta, to aske tribute, being nowe the

thirde time it was demaunded, which the Athenians payed The Athe-

for this cause. Androgens, the eldest sonne of king Minos, nians payed

was slayne by treason within the countrye of Attica : for tribute to

which cause Minos pursuing the revenge of his death, made r^^^ for^he

very whotte and sharpe warres upon the Athenians, and dyd death' of

them greate hurte. But besides all this, the goddes dyd Audrogeus

sharpely punishe and scourge all the countrye, aswell with ^i^ sonne.

barrennes and famine, as also with plague and other mis-

chieves, even to the drying up of their rivers. The Athenians

perceyving these sore troubles and plagues, ranne to the

oracle of Apollo, who aunswered them that they shoulde

appease Minos : and when they had made their peace with

him, that then the wrathe of the goddes woulde cease against

them, and their troubles should have an ende. Whereupon

the Athenians sent immediately unto him, and intreated

him for peace : which he graunted them, with condition that The manner

they should be bounde to sende him yerely into Creta, seven of the tribute

younge boyes, and as many younge gyrles. Nowe thus farre, conditioned.

all the Historiographers doe very well agree : but in the reste

not. And they which seeme furdest of from the trothe, doe

declare, that when these yonge boyes were delivered in Creta,

they caused them to be devowred by the Minotaure within

the Laberinthe : or els that they were shut within this

Laberinthe, wandring up and dowTie, and coulde finde no The Mino-

place to gett out, untill suche time as they dyed, even taure what it

famished for hunger. And this Minotaure, as Euripides the ^*^'

Poet sayeth, was

A corps combynd, which monstrous might be deemd ;
A Boye^ a Bull; both man and beast it seemd.
F 41

taines.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

THESEUS But Philochorus writeth, that the Cretans doe not con-
The Labe- fesse that, but saye that this Laberinthe was a gayle or
rmthe a pri- prisone, in the which they had no other hurte, saving that
re a. ||^gy which were kept there under locke and keye, coulde
not flye nor starte awaye : and that Minos had, in the
memorye of his sonne Androgeus, instituted games and
playes of prise, where he gave unto them that wanne the
victorie, those younge children of Athens, the which in the
meane time notwithstanding were carefully kept and looked
unto in the prisone of the Laberinthe : and that at the first
games that were kept, one of the Kings captaines called
Taurus one of Taurus, who was in best creditt with his master, wanne the
Minoes cap- prise. This Taurus was a churlishe, and naughtie natured
man of condition, and very harde and cruell to these children
of Athens. And to verifie the same, the philosopher Aris-
totle him selfe, speaking of the common wealth of the
Of the Bot- Bottieians, declareth very well, that he never thought that
tieians. Plin. Minos dyd at any time cause the children of Athens to be
. 4. cap. 2. p^^ ^Q death : but sayeth, that they poorely toyled in Creta
even to crooked age, earning their living by true and paine-
fuU service. For it is written, that the Cretans (to satisfie
an olde vowe of theirs which they had made of auncient
time) sent somtimes the first borne of their children, unto
Apollo in the cittie of Delphes : and that amongest them
they also mingled those, which were descended of the
auncient prisoners of Athens, and they went with them.
But bicause they coulde not live there, they directed their
jorney first into Italic, where for a time they remained in
the realme of Puglia, and afterwardes from thence went into
the confines of Thracia, where they had this name of Bot-
tieians. In memory whereof, the daughters of the Bottieians
in a solemne sacrifice they make, doe use to singe the foote
of this songe : Lett us to Athens goe. But thereby we maye
see howe perilous a thing it is, to fall in displeasure and
enmitie with a cittie, which can speake well, and where
King ^iJios learning and eloquence dothe florishe. For ever sence that
PoetTin the ^ ^^"^^5 Minos was allwayes biased and disgraced through out
theaters at ^^ the Theaters of Athens. The testimonie of Hesiodus,
Athens, who calleth him the most worthie King, dothe nothing

42

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

helpe him at all, nor the prayse of Homer, who nameth him THESEUS

lupiters famillier friende : bicause the tragicall Poets gott

the upper hande in disgracing liim, notwithstanding all

these. And upon their stages where all the tragedies were

played, they still gave forth many ill favored wordes, and

fowle speaches of him : as against a man that had bene most

cruell and unnaturall. Yet most men thincke, that Minos

was the King which established the lawes : and Radaman- Radaman-

thus the judge and preserver of them, who caused the same thus.

also to be kept and observed. The time nowe being comen

about for payment of the thirde tribute, when they came to The thirde

compell the fathers which had children not yet maried, to ^^'^V^/i^'

geve them to be put forth to take their chaunce and lotte : tribute

the citizens of Athens beganne to murmure against ^geus,

alledging for their grieves, that he who onely was the cause

of all this evill, was onely alone exempted from this griefe.

And that to brins: the government of the Realme, to fall

• Til

into the handes of a straunger his bastard : he cared not

though they were bereft of all their naturall children, The Atheni-

and were unnaturally compelled to leave and forsake them, ^'^^/^^^^^^th

These just sorrowes and complaintes of the fathers, whose their children,

children were taken from them, dyd pearce the harte of

Theseus, who willing to yelde to reason, and to ronne the

selfe same fortune as the cittizens dyd : willingly offered him Theseus offer-

selfe to be sent thither, without regarde taking to his happe ^,^-'^T''xif^\-i

or adventure. For which, the cittizens greatly esteemed of ^^^^ ^^^^

his corage and honorable disposition, and dearely loved him Creta.

for the good affection, he seemed to beare unto the comun-

altye. But ^geus having used many reasons and per-

swasions, to cause him to turne, and staye from his purpose,

and perceyving in the ende there was no remedye but he

woulde goe : he then drue lottes for the children which Lotts drawen

should goe with him. Hellanicus notwithstanding dothe ^"'^ ^^^h^?^^"

write, that they were not those of the cittie which drewe ^^^^^^^ g^g^

lottes for the children they should sende, but that Minos

him selfe went thither in persone and dyd chuse them, as he

chose Theseus the first, upon conditions agreed betwene

them : that is to wit, that the Athenians shoulde furnishe

them with a shippe, and that the children should shippe and

THESEUS

The Atheni-
ans sent their
children into
Creta in a
shippe with
a blacks sayle.

vEgeus geveth
the master of
the shippe a
white sayle, to
signifie the
safe returne
of Theseus.

Cybernesia
games.

Hiceteria
oflFering.

Theseus tak-
eth shippe
with the tri-
bute children,
the sixt of
Marche, and
savleth into
Creta,

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

imbarke with him, carying no weapons of warre : and that
after the death of the Minotaure, this tribute should cease.
Nowe before that time, there was never any hope of returne,
nor of safetie of their children : therefore the Athenians all-
wayes sent a shippe to convey their children with a blacke
sayle, in token of assured losse. Nevertheles Theseus put-
ting his father in good hope of him, being of a good corage,
and promising boldly that he woulde sett upon this Mino-
taure : ^geus gave unto the master of the shippe a white
sayle, commaunding him that at his returne he should put
out the white sayle if his sonne had escaped, if not, that then
he should sett up the blacke sayle, to shewe him a farre of
his unlucky and unfortunate chaunce. Simonides notwith-
standing doeth saye, that this sayle which ^geus gave to
the master, was not white, but redde, dyed in graine, and of
the culler of scarlett : and that he gave it him to signifie a
farre of, their deliverie and safety. This master was called
Phereclus Amarsiadas, as Simonides sayeth. But Philo-
chorus writeth, that Scirus the Salaminian gave to Theseus
a master called Nausitheus, and another marriner to tackle
the sayles, who was called Phseas : bicause the Athenians at
that time were not greatly practised to the sea. And this
did Scirus, for that one of the children on whom the lott
fell was his nephewe : and thus muche the chappells doe
testifie, which Theseus buylt afterwardes in honoui* of Nausi-
theus, and of Phaeas, in the village of Phalerus, joyning to
the temple of Scirus. And it is sayed moreover, that the
feaste which they call Cybernesia, that is to saye, the feaste
of Patrons of the shippes, is celebrated in honour of them.
Nowe after the lotts were drawen, Theseus taking with him
the children allotted for the tribute, went from the pallace
to the temple called Delphinion, to offer up to Apollo for
him and for them, an offering of supplication which they call
Hiceteria : which was an olyve boughe hallowed, wreathed
about with white wolle. After he had made his prayer, he
went downe to the sea side to imbarke, the sixt daye of the
moneth of Marche : on which daye at this present time they
doe sende their younge girles to the same temple of Del-
phinion, there to make their prayers and petitions to the
44

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

goddes. But some saye, that the oracle of Apollo in the THESEUS

cittie of Delphes had aunswered him, that he should take
Venus for his guyde, and that he should call upon her to
conduct him in his voyage : for which cause he dyd sacrifice
a goate unto her upon the sea side, which was founde sodainly
turned into a ramme, and that herefore they surnamed this
goddesse Epitragia, as one would saye, the goddesse of the Venus Epi-
ramme. Furthermore, after he was arrived in Creta, he tragic,
slewe there the Minotaure (as the most parte of auncient Theseus slewe
authors doe write) by the meanes and helpe of Ariadne : who the Mino-
beinff fallen in fansie with him, dyd geve him a clue of *^"^^ "V
threede, by the helpe whereof she taught him, howe he might Ariadne kinff
easely winde out of the turnings and cranckes of the Laby- Minoes
rinthe. And they saye, that having killed this Minotaure, daughter,
he returned backe againe the same Avaye he went, bringing Theseus re-
with him those other younge children of Athens, whom with turne out of
Ariadne also he caried after wardes awaye. Pherecides sayeth '-^^^'•^*
moreover, that he brake the keeles or bottomes of all the
shippes of Creta, bicause they should not sodainely sett out
after them. And Demon writeth, that Taurus (the captaine Taurus over-
of Minos) was killed in a fight by Theseus, even in the very come of The-
haven mowthe as they were readye to shippe awaye, and ^^"^' ^^^^ ^
hoyse up sayle. Yet Philochorus reporteth, that king IVIinos
having sett up the games, as he was wont to doe yerely in
the honour and memorye of his sonne, every one beganne to
envye captaine Taurus, bicause they ever looked that he
should carye awaye the game and victorie, as he had done
other yeres before : over and that, his authoritye got him
much ill will and envye, bicause he was proude and stately,
and had in suspition that he was great with Queene Pasi- Taurus sus-
phae. Wherefore when Theseus required he might encounter pected with
with Taurus, Minos easely graunted it. And being a solemne P^^^P^^.^j
custome in Creta that the women shoulde be present, to see ^^j^g '
these open sportes and sights, Ariadne being at these games
amongest the rest, fell further in love with Theseus, seeing How Ariadne
him so goodly a persone, so stronge, and invincible in wrest- fell in love
ling, that he farre exceeded all that wrestled there that ^^^^h Theseus,
daye. King Minos was so glad that he had taken awaye the
honour from captaine Taurus, that he sent him home francke

45

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

THESEUS and free into his countrye, rendring to him all the other
Minos send- prisoners of Athens : and for his sake, clearely released and
eth Theseus forgave the cittie of Athens the tribute, which they should

home with his j^g^yg payed him yerely. Howbeit Clidemus searchins; out

prisoners and ^ . . ^ *^ , .1

releaseth'the ^^ beginning of these things to thutmost, reciteth them

Athenians of very particularly, and after another sorte. For he sayeth,

their tribute, about that time there was a generall restraint through out

A marine all Grece, restrayning all manner of people to beare sayle in

lawe. Qj^y vessell or bottome, wherein there were above five per-

sones, except only lason, who was chosen captaine of the

great shippe Argus, and had commission to sayle every

where, to chase and drive awaye rovers and pyrates, and to

Daedalus scoure the seas through out. About this time, Daedalus

flight. being fled from Creta to Athens in a litle barke : Minos

contrarie to this restraint, woulde needes followe him with a

fleete of divers vessels with owers, who being by force of

King Minos weather driven to the coaste of Sicile, fortuned to dye there,

dyed in Sicile. Afterwardes his sonne Deucalion, being marvellously of-

Deucalion fended with the Athenians, sent to summone them to deliver

king Minoes Dagdalus unto him, or els he woulde put the children to

Sonne sent to death, which were delivered to his father for hostages. But

^T D- ^ Theseus excused him selfe, and sayed he coulde not forsake

dalus. Daedalus, considering he was his neere kynseman, being his

cosin germaine, for he was the sonne of Merope, the daughter

of Erichtheus. Howbeit by and by he caused many vessels

secretly to be made, parte of them within Attica selfe in the

village of Thymetades, farre from any highe wayes : and

parte of them in the cittie of Troezen, by the sufferance of

Pitheus his grandfather, to the ende his purpose shoulde be

kept the secretly er. Afterwardes when all his shippes were

readye, and rygged out, he tooke sea before the Cretans had

any knowledge of it : in so much as when they sawe them

a farre of, they dyd take them for the barkes of their friends.

Theseus sayl- Theseus landed without resistaunce, and tooke the haven.

ed into Creta, Xhen having Daedalus, and other banished Cretans for guydes,

th ^t?r of ^^ entred the cittie selfe of Gnosus, where he slewe Deucalion

Gnosus and in a fight before the gates of the Labyrinthe, with all his

slewe Deuca- garde and officers about him. By this meanes the kingdome

lion- of Creta fell by inheritance into the handes of his sister

46

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

Ariadne. Theseus made league with her, and caryed away THESEUS
the yong children of Athens, which were kept as hostages, and
concluded peace and amytie betweene the Athenians and the
Cretans : who promised, and sware, they woulde never make
warres against them. They reporte many other things also
touching this matter, and specially of Ariadne : but there is Divers opin-
no trothe nor certeintie in it. For some saye, that Ariadne ^^^^ of
honge her selfe for sorowe, when she sawe that Theseus had -^"^^"^•
caste her of. Other write, that she was transported by
mariners into the He of Naxos, where she was maryed unto
CEnarus, the priest of Bacchus : and they thincke that The-
seus lefte her, bicause he was in love with another, as by
these verses shoulde appeare.

^gles the Nyniphe, was loved of Theseus,
which was the daughter of Panopeus.

Hereas the Megarian sayeth, that these two verses in olde
time were among the verses of the Poet Hesiodus, howbeit
Pisistratus tooke them awaye : as he dyd in like manner adde
these other here in the description of the helles in Homer, to
gratifie the Athenians.

Bolde Theseus^ and Pirithous stowte,

descended both, from godds immortall race.
Triumphing still, this wearie worlde aboute

in feats of armes, and many a comly grace.

Other holde opinion, that Ariadne had two children by
Theseus : the one of them was named (Enopion, and the (Enopion, and
other Staphylus. Thus amongest others the Poet Ion Staphylus
writeth it, who was borne in the He of Chio, and speaking ^^^^s^us
of his cittie, he sayeth thus :

sonnes.

CEnopiou which was the sonne, of worthy Theseus
did cause men buylde, this stately towne which
nowe triumpheth thus.

Nowe what things are founde seemely in Poets fables,
there is none but dothe in manner synge them. But one
Paenon borne in the cittie of Amathunta, reciteth this cleane
after another sorte, and contrarie to all other : saying, that
Theseus by tempest was driven with the He of Cyprus,

47

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

THESEUS

Theseus leav-
eth Ariadne
in Cyprus.

Ariadne dieth
with childe in
Cyprus.

The cere-
monie of the
sacrifice done
to Ariadne in
Cyprus.

Venus
Ariadne.

Two Minoes
and two
Ariadnees.

Corcyna
Ariadnes

Theseus re-
turneth out of
Creta into the
lie of Delos.

having with him Ariadne, which was great with childe, and
so sore sea sycke, that she was not able to abide it. In so
muche as he was forced to put her a lande, and him selfe
afterwards returning abourde hoping to save his shippe
against the storme, was forthwith compelled to loofe into
the sea. The women of the countrye dyd curteously receyve
and intreate Ariadne : and to comforte her againe, (for she
was marveilously oute of harte, to see she was thus forsaken)
they counterfeated letters, as if Theseus had wrytten them
to her. And when her groninge time was come, and she to
be layed, they did their best by all possible meanes to save
her: but she dyed notwithstanding in labour, and could
never be delivered. So she was honorably buried by the
Ladies of Cyprus. Theseus not long after returned thither
againe, who tooke her death marvelous heavily, and left
money with the inhabitantes of the countrie, to sacrifice
unto her yearely : and for memorie of her, he caused two litle
images to be molten, the one of copper, and the other of
silver, which he dedicated unto her. This sacrifice is done
the seconde day of September, on which they doe yet observe
this ceremonie : they doe lay a young childe upon a bed,
which pitiefully cryeth and lamenteth, as women travellinge
with childe. They saye also, that the Amathusians doe yet
call the grove where her tombe is sette up, the wodde of
Venus Ariadne. And yet there are of the Naxians, that
reporte this otherwise : saying, there were two Minoes, and
two Ariadnees, whereof the one was maried to Bacchus
in the lie of Naxos, of whome Staphylus was borne : and the
other the youngest, was ravished and caried away by The-
seus, who afterwardes forsooke her, and she came into the He
of Naxos with her nurce, called Corcyna, whose grave they
doe shewe yet to this day. This seconde Ariadne dyed
there also, but she had no such honour done to her after her
death, as to the first was geven. For they celebrate the
feaste of the first with all joye and mirthe : where the
sacrifices done in memorie of the seconde, be mingled with
mourninge and sorowe. Theseus then departing from the
He of Creta, arrived in the He of Delos, where he did sacri-
fice in the temple of Apollo, and gave there a litle image of
48

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

Venus, the which he had gotten of Ariadne. Then with THESEUS
the other young boyes that he had delivered, he daunced a
kinde of daunce, which the Dehans keepe to this day, as
they say : in which there are many turnes and returnes,
much after the turninges of the Labyrinthe. And the
Delians call this manner of daunce, the crane, as Dicoearcus Theseus
sayeth. And Theseus daunced it first about the altar, daunce called
which is called Ceraton, that is to saye, hornestaffe : bicause t^^ Crane,
it is made and builded of homes onely, all on the left hande
well and curiously sette together without any other bindinge.
It is sayed also that he made a game in this He of Delos,
in which at the first was geven to him that overcame, a
braunche of palme for reward of victorie. But when they Palme a token
drewe neere the coast of Attica, they were so j oy full, he and ^^ victory,
his master, that they forgate to set up their white sayle, by Theseus mas-
which they shoulde have geven knowledge of their healthe ter of his
and safetie to iEgeus. Who seeinge the blacke savle a farre ^"^PP^ formate

t% » • . to spt out tnP

of, being out of all hope evermore to see his sonne againe, ^-i^j^g savle
tooke such a griefe at his harte, that he threw him selfe
headlong from the top of a clyff'e, and killed him selfe. So ^geus death,
soone as Theseus was arrived at the porte named Phalerus, Theseus arriv-
he performed the sacrifices which he had vowed to the goddes eth safe with
at his departure : and sent an Herauld of his before unto the tribute
the city, to carie newes of his safe arrivall. The Heraulde ^.j^g haven of
founde many of the citie mourning the death of king JEgeus. Phalerus.
Many other received him with great joy, as may be supposed.
They would have crowned him also with a garlande of
flowers, for that he had brought so good tidinges, that the
children of the citie were returned in safetie. The Heraulde
was content to take the garlande, yet would he not in any
wise put it on his head, but did winde it about his Heraulds
rodde he bare in his hande, and so returneth foorthwith to The Herauld
the sea, where Theseus made his sacrifices. Who perceiv- bare a rodde
inge they were not yet done, did refuse to enter into the ^^ "^^ hand,
temple, and stayed without for troubling of the sacrifices.
After wardes all ceremonies finished, he went in and tolde him
the newes of his fathers death. Then he and his company
mourning for sorowe, hasted with speede towardes the citie.
And this is the cause, why to this day, at the feast called
G 49

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

THESEUS
The feast
Oscophoria.

October
called Pya-
nepsion, in
the Atticau
tongue.

Herod, of Ire-
sione in the
life of Homer,
and Suidas.

Theseus went
into Creta
with the tri-
bute children,
in the galliot
of 30. owers.

Disputation
about in-
crease.

Oscophoria (as who woulde say at the feast of boughes)
the Herauld hath not his heade but his rod onely crowned
with flowers, and why the assistantes also after the sacrifice
done, doe make suche cryes and exclamations : Ele, leuf^ iou,
iou : whereof the first is the crye and voyce they commonly
use one to an other to make haste, or else it is the foote of
some songe of triumphe : and the other is the crye and voyce
of men as it were in feare and trouble. After he had ended
the obsequies and funeralls for his father, he performed also
his sacrifices unto Apollo, which he had vowed the seventh
day of the moneth of October, on which they arrived at their
returne into the citie of Athens. Even so the custome which
they use at this day, to seeth all manner of pulse, commeth
of this : that those which then returned with Theseus, did
seeth in a great brasse potte all the remaine of their pro-
vision, and therewith made good chere together. Even in
such sorte as this, came up the custome to carie a braunch of
olyve, wreathed about with wolle, which they call Iresione :
bicause at that time they caried boughes of supplication, as
we have told ye before. About which they hang all sortes
of fruites : for then barrennesse did cease, as the verses they
sang afterwards did witnesse.

Bring him good bread, that is of savry tast,

with pleasaunt figges, and droppes of dulcet mell.

Then sowple oyle, his body for to bast,

and pure good wine, to make him sleepe full well.

Howbeit there are some which will say, that these verses
were made for the Heraclides, that is to say, those that
descended from Hercules : which flying for their safety and
succour unto the Athenians, were entertained and much
made of by them for a time. But the most parte holde
opinion, they were made upon the occasion aforesaid. The
vessell in which Theseus went and returned, was a galliot of
thirtie owers, which the Athenians kept untill the time of
Demetrius the Phalerian, alwayes taking away the olde
peeces of wodde that were rotten, and ever renewing them
with new in their places. So that ever since, in the disputa-
tions of the Philosophers, touching things that increase, to

50

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

wit, whether they remaine alwayes one, or else they be made THESEUS
others : this galliot was alwayes brought in for an example The galliot
of doubt. For some mainteined, that it was still one vessell : alleaged for a
others to the contrarie defended it was not so. And they ^10""^.
holde opinion also, that the feast of boughes which is cele-
brated at Athens at this time, was then first of all instituted
by Theseus. It is sayed moreover, that he did not carye all
the wenches upon whome the lotts did fall, but chose two
fayer young boyes, whose faces were swete and delicate as
maydens be, that otherwise were hardie, and quicke sprighted.
But he made them so oft bathe them selves in whotte bathes,
and kepe them in from the heate of the sunne, and so many
times to washe, anointe, and rubbe them selves with oyles
which serve to supple and smoothe their skinnes, to keepe
freshe and fayer their colour, to make yellowe and bright
their heares : and withall did teache them so to counterfeate
their speache, countenaunce and facion of young maydes,
that they seemed to be like them, rather then young boyes.
For there was no manner of difference to be perceived out-
wardly, and he mingled them with the girles, without the
knowledge of any man. Afterwards when he was returned,
he made a procession, in which both he and the other young
boyes, were apparelled then as they be nowe, which carie
boughes on the day of the feast in their handes. They carie
them in the honor of Bacchus and Ariadne, following the
fable that is tolde of them : or rather bicause they returned
home just, at the time and season, when they gather the
fruite of those trees. There are women which they call
Deipnophores, that is to say, supper caryers, which are assis-
tantes to the sacrifice done that day, in representing the
mothers of those, upon whom the lottes did fall, bicause
they in like sorte brought them both meate and drinke.
There they tell tales, for so did their mothers tattle to their
children, to comforte and encorage them. All these parti-
cularities were written by Demon the historiographer. There
was moreover a place chosen out to build him a temple in,
and he him selfe ordained, that those houses which had
payed tribute before unto the king of Creta, should nowe
yearely thenceforth become contributories towardes the

51

m

THESEUS

Theseus
thankefullnes
to the Phyta-
lides who were
the first that
feasted him in
their houses.

Theseus
brought the
inhabitants of
the contrie
of Attica into
one city.

Asty, the
towne house
of the Athe-

The feastes
Panathenaea,
and Metoecia.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

charges of a solemne sacrifice, which shoulde be done in the
honor of him : and he did assigne the order and administra-
tion of the same, unto the house of the Phytalides, in recom-
pence of the curtesie which they showed him when he arrived.
Furthermore, after the death of his father ^Egeus, he under-
tooke a marvelous great enterprise. For he brought all the
inhabitantes of the whole province of Attica, to be within
the citie of Athens, and made them all one corporation,
which were before dispersed into diverse villages, and by
reason thereof were very hard to be assembled together, when
occasion was offered to establish any order concerning the
common state. Many times also they were at variance to-
gether, and by the eares, making warres one upon an other.
But Theseus tooke the paines to goe from village to village,
and from family, to familie, to let them understand the
reasons why they should consent unto it. So he found the
poore people and private men, ready to obey and foUowe his
will : but the riche, and such as had authoritye in every
village, all against it. Nevertheles he wanne them, promis-
ing that it should be a common wealth, and not subject to
the power of any sole prince, but rather a populer state. In
which he woulde only reserve to him selfe the charge of the
warres, and the preservation of the lawes : for the rest, he
was content that every citizen in all and for all should beare
a like swaye and authoritye. So there were some that will-
ingly graunted thereto. Other who had no liking thereof,
velded notwithstanding for feare of his displeasure and power
which then was very great. So they thought it better to
consent with good will, unto that he required : then to tary
his forcible compulsion. Then he caused all the places
where justice was ministred, and all their halles of assembly
to be overthrowen and pulled downe. He removed straight
all j udges and officers, and built a towne house, and a coun-
saill hall, in the place where the cittie now standeth, which
the Athenians call Asty, but he called the whole corporation
of them, Athens. Afterwardes he instituted the greate feast
and common sacrifice for all of the countrye of Attica, which
they call Panathenaea. Then he ordeined another feaste also
upon the sixtenth daye of the raoneth of June, for all strangers
52

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

which should come to dwell in Athens, which is called Metoe- THESEUS
cia and is kept even to this daye. That done, he gave over
his regall power according to his promise, and beganne to sett Theseus re-
up an estate or policye of a common wealth, beginning first f'F"^*^ ^'^
with the service of the goddes. To knowe the good successe '",^ "'"ke'th
of his enterprise, he sent at the very beginning to the oracle Athens a com-
of Apollo in Delphes, to enquire of the fortune of this cittye : mon wealth.
from whence this aunswer was brought unto him :

O thou which arte^ the sonue of iEgeus, ^^^ oracle or

begott by him, on Pitheus daughter deare. Apollo at

The mightie love, my father glorious, Delphes.

by his decree, hath sayed there shall appeare,

a fatall ende, of every cittie here.
^V^hich ende he will, shall also come adowne,

within the walles, of this thy stately towne.

Therefore shewe thou, a valliant constant minde,

and let no care, nor carke thy harte displease.
For like unto a bladder blowen with winde

thou shalt be tost, upon the surging seas.

Yet lett no dynte, of dolours the disease.
For why.-* thou shalt, nor perishe nor decaye,

nor be orecome, nor yet be cast awaye.

It is founde written also that Sibylla afterwardes gave out
such a like oracle over the cittye of Athens.

The bladder blowen maye flete upon the fludde,
but cannot synke, nor sticke in filthie mudde.

Moreover, bicause he woulde further yet augment his
people, and enlarge his cittie, he entised many to come
and dwell there, by offering them the selfe same freedome
and priviledges, which the naturall borne citizens had. So
that many judge, that these wordes which are in use at this
daye in Athens, when any open proclamation is made, All
people. Come ye hither : be the selfe same which Theseus then
caused to be proclaymed, when he in that sorte dyd gather Theseus mak-
a people together of all nations. Yet for all that, he suffered ^f /f fa^nd^
not the great multitude that came thither tagge and ragge, degreerin"his
to be without distinction of degrees and orders. For he first common
divided the noble men, from husbandmen and artificers, weale.

53

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

THESEUS appointing the noblemen as judges and magistrates to judge

upon matters of Religion, and touching the service of the

godds : and of them also he dyd chuse rulers, to beare civill

office in the common weale, to determine the lawe, and to

tell all holy and divine things. By this meanes he made the

noble men and the two other estates equall in voyce. And

as the noblemen dyd passe the other in honour : even so the

artificers exceeded them in number, and the husbandmen

them in profit. Nowe that Theseus was the first who of all

Theseus the others yelded to have a common weale or populer estate (as

first that gave Aristotle sayeth) and dyd geve over his regall power : Homer

over regall ggjf semeth to testifie it, in numbring the shippes which were

framed rSopu- ^" ^^^ Grsecians armie before the cittie of Troia. For

ler state. amongest all the Graecians, he only calleth the Athenians

people. Moreover Theseus coyned money, which he marked

An oxe stamp- with the stampe of an oxe, in memorye of the buUe of Mara-

ed in Theseus thon, or of Taurus the captaine of Minos, or els to provoke

coyne. j^jg citizens to geve them selves to labour. They saye also

Hecatom- that of this money they were since called Hecatomboeon,

boeon, Deca- and Decabceon, which signifieth worth a hundred oxen, and

boeon. worth tenne oxen. Furthermore having joined all the

territorie of the cittie of Megara, unto the countrie of Attica,

he caused that notable foure square piller to be sett up

for their confines within the straight of Peloponnesus, and

engraved thereuppon this superscription, that declareth the

separation of both the countries which confine there together.

The superscription is this.

Where Titan doth beginne, his beames for to displaye
even that waye stands lonia^ in fertile wise allwaye :

And where againe he goeth^ a downe to take his rest,
there stands Peloponnesus lande, for there I compt it west.

It was he also which made the games called Isthmia, after
Olympia. the imitation of Hercules, to the ende that as the Grecians
dyd celebrate the feast of games called Olympia, in the
Theseus erect- honour of lupiter, by Hercules ordinance : so, that they
Isthmia in the should also celebrate the games called Isthmia, lay his order
honour of and institution, in the honour of Neptune. For those that
Neptune. were done in the straights in the honour of Melicerta, were
54

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

done in the night, and had rather forme of sacrifice or of a THESEUS
mvsterie, then of games and open feast. Yet some will save,
that these games of Isthmia were instituted in the honour
and memorie of Sciron, and that Theseus ordained them in
satisfaction of his death : bicause he was his cosin germaine,
being the sonne of Canethus, and of Heniocha the daughter
of Pitheus. Other save that it was Sinnis and not Sciron,
and that for him Theseus made these games, and not for the
memorie of the other. Howsoever it was, he speciallv willed
the Corinthians, that they should geve unto those that came
from Athens to see their games of Isthmia, so much place to
sit downe before them (in the most honorable parte of the
feast place) as the saile of their shippe should cover, in the
which they came from Athens : thus doe Hellanicus and
Andron Halicamasseus write hereof. Touching the vovage
he made by the sea Major, Philochorus, and some other Theseus jor-
holde opinion, that he went thither with Hercules against ^y^_ ^^^o mare
the Amazones : and that to honour his valiantnes, Hercules -*^^Jor-
gave him Antiopa the Amazone. But the more parte of
the other Historiographers, namely Hellanicus, Pherecides,
and Herodotus, doe write, that Theseus went thither alone,
after Hercules voyage, and that he tooke this Amazone Antiopa the
prisoner, which is likeliest to be true. For we doe not finde Amazone
that any other who went this jomey with him, had taken ^t^^* ^, ^
any Amazone prisoner besides him selfe. Bion also the
Historiographer, this notwithstanding sayeth, that he brought
her away by deceit and stealth. For the Amazones (saveth
he) naturally loving men, dyd not flie at all when thev sawe
them lande in their countrye, but sente them presents, and
that Theseus entised her to come into his shippe, who
brought him a present : and so sone as she was aborde, he
hoysed his sayle, and so caried her awav. Another Historio-
grapher Menecrates, who wrote the historic of the cittie of
Nicea, in the countrye of B}i:hinia, saveth : that Theseus
having this Amazone Antiopa with him, remained a certaine
time upon those coasts, and amongest other he had in his
companie three younger brethem of Athens, Euneus, Thoas, Solois fell in
and Solois. This last, Solois, was marveilouslv in love 'with love with
Antiopa, and never be\\Tayed it to any of his other com- -■^tiopa.

55

Solois drown-
ed him selfe
for love.

Pythopolis
built by
Theseus,

Solois fl.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

THESEUS panions, saving unto one with whom he was most familiar,
and whom he trusted best : so that he reported this matter
unto Antiopa. But she utterly rejected his sute, though
otherwise she handled it wisely and curteously, and dyd not
complaine to Theseus of him. Howbeit the younge man
despairing to enjoy e his love, tooke it so inwardly, that
desperately he lept into the river, and drowned him selfe.
Which when Theseus understoode, and the cause also that
brought him to this desperation and ende : he was very
sorye, and angrie also. Whereupon he remembred a cer-
teine oracle of Pythia, by whom he was commaunded to
buyld a cittie in that place in a straunge countrye, where
he should be most sorye, and that he should leave some that
were about him at that time, to governe the same. For this
cause therefore he built a cittie in that place, which he
named Pythopolis, bicause he liad built it only by the com-
maundement of the Nunne Pythia. He called the river in
the which the younge man was drowned, Solois, in memorye
of him : and left his two brethern for his deputies and as
governours of this newe cittie, with another gentleman of
Athens, called Hermus. Hereof it commeth, that at this
daye the Pythopolitans call a certen place of their cittie,
Hermus house. But they fayle in the accent, by putting it
upon the last syllable : for in pronouncing it so, Hermu
signifieth Mercuric. By this meanes they doe transferre
the honour due to the memorie of Hermus, unto the god
Mercuric. Now heare what was the occasion of the warres of
the Amazones, which me thinckes was not a matter of small
moment, nor an enterprise of a woman. For they had not
placed their campe within the very cittie of Athens, nor had
not fought in tlie very place it selfe (called Pnyce) adjoyning
to the temple of the Muses, if they had not first conquered
or subdued all the countrye thereabouts : neither had they
all comen at the first, so valiantly to assaile the cittie of
Athens. Now, whether they came by lande from so farre a
countrye, or that they passed over an arme of the sea, which
is called Bosphorus Cimmericus, being frosen as Hellanicus
sayeth : it is hardely to be credited. But that they camped
within the precinct of the very cittie it selfe, the names of
56

The cause of
the warres of
the Amazones
against the
Athenians.

Bosphorus
Cimmericus,
an arme of
the sea.

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

the places which contmewe yet to this present daye doe THESEUS
witnesse it, and the graves also of the women which dyed
there. But so it is, that both armies laye a great time one
in the face of the other, ere they came to battell. Howbeit
at the length Theseus having first made sacrifice unto Feare
the goddesse, according to the counsaill of a prophecie he Theseus fight-
had receyved, he gave them battell in the moneth of August, ^^^ ^ battell
on the same daye, in the which the Athenians doe even at ^'j^^^^ \.
this present solemnise the feast, which they call Boedromia.
But Clidemus the Historiographer, desirous particularly to
write all the circumstances of this encownter, sayeth that the
left poynte of their battell bent towards the place which The order of
they call Amazonion : and that the right poynte marched by the Amazones
the side of Chrysa, even to the place which is called Pnyce, battell.
upon which, the Athenians comming towards the temple of the
Muses, did first geve their charge. And for proofe that this
is true, the graves of the women which dyed in this first
encounter, are founde yet in the great streete, which goeth
towards the gate Piraica, neere unto the chappell of the litlc
god Chalcodus. And the Athenians (sayeth he) were in this
place repulsed by the Amazones, even to the place where the
images of Eumenides are, that is to saye, of the furies. But
on thother side also, the Athenians comming towards the
quarters of Palladium, Ardettus, and Lucium, drave backe
their right poynte even to within their campe, and slewe a
great number of them. Afterwards, at the ende of foure
moneths, peace was taken betwene them by meanes of one Peace con-
of the women called Hyppolita. For this Historiographer eluded at
calleth the Amazone which Theseus maried, Hyppolita, and endTJlJ'"^
not Antiopa. Nevertheles, some saye that she was slayne meanes of
(fighting on Theseus side) with a darte, by another called Hypolita.
Molpadia. In memorie whereof, the piller which is joyning
to the temple of the Olympian ground, was set up in her
honour. We are not to marvell, if the historie of things so
auncient, be founde so diversely written. For there are also
that write, that Queene Antiopa sent those secretly which
were hurte then into the cittie of Calcide, where some of
them recovered, and were healed : and others also dyed,
which were buried neere to the place called Amazonion.
K 67

"1

THESEUS

Orcomosion,
the name of a
place.

Auncient
tombes of los-
enge facion.

Thermodon,
nowe called
Haemon fl.

Hippolytus
Theseussoune
by Antiopa.

Phaedra

Theseus wife,
and Minos
daughter king
of Creta.

Theseus
manages.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

Howsoever it was, it is most certain that this warre was
ended by agreement. For a place adjoyning to the temple
of Theseus, dothe beare recorde of it, being called Orcomo-
sium : bicause the peace was there by solemne othe con-
cluded. And the sacrifice also dothe truely verifie it, which
they have made to the Amazones, before the feast of
Theseus, long time out of minde. They of Megara also doe
shewe a tumbe of the Amazones in their cittie, which is as
they goe from the market place, to the place they call Rhus :
where they finde an auncient tumbe, cut in facion and forme
of a losenge. They saye that there died other of the
Amazones also, neere unto the cittie of Chaeronea, which were
buried all alongest the litle broke passing by the same, which
in the olde time, (in mine opinion) was called Thermodon,
and is nowe named Haemon, as we have in other places
written in the life of Demosthenes. And it semeth also, that
they dyd not passe through Thessalie, without fighting : for
there are seene yet of their tumbes all about the cittie of
Scotusa, hard by the rocks, which be called the doggs head.
And this is that which is worthy memorie (in mine opinion)
touching the warres of these Amazones. How tlie Poet
telleth that the Amazones made warres with Theseus to
revenge the injurie he dyd to their Queene Antiopa, refusing
her, to marye with Phaedra : and as for the murder which he
telleth that Hercules dyd, that me thinckes is altogether but
devise of Poets. It is very true, that after the death of
Antiopa, Theseus maried Phaedra, having had before of
Antiopa a sonne called Hippolytus, or as the Poet Pindarus
writeth, Demophon. And for that the Historiographers doe
not in any thing speake against the tragicall Poets, in that
which concerneth the ill happe that chaunced to him, in the
persons of this his wife and of his sonne : we must needes take
it to be so, as we finde it written in the tragedies. And
yet we finde many other reportes touching the manages of
Theseus, whose beginnings had no great good honest ground,
neither fell out their endes very fortunate : and yet for all
that they have made no tragedies of them, neither have they
bene played in the Theaters, For we reade that he tooke
away Anaxo the Troezenian, and that after he had killed
58

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

Sinnis and Cercyon, he tooke their daughters perforce : and THESEUS
that he dyd also marye Peribsea, the mother of Ajax, and
afterwards Pherebaea, and loppa the daughter of Iphicles.
And they blame him much also, for that he so lightly for-
sooke his wife Ariadne, for the love of JEgles the daughter
of Panopaeus, as we have recited before. Lastely, he tooke
awaye Hellen : which ravishement filled all the Realme of
Attica with warres, and finally was the very occasion that
forced him to forsake his countrye, and brought him at the
length to his ende, as we will tell you hereafter. Albeit in
his time other princes of Grece had done many goodly and
notable exploits in the warres, yet Herodotus is of opinion,
that Theseus was never in any one of them : saving that he Theseus
was at the battell of the Lapithae against the Centauri. battels.
Others saye to the contrarie,' that he was at the jomey of
Cholchide with lason, and that he dyd helpe Meleager to
kill the wilde bore of Calydonia : from whence (as they saye)
this proverbe came : ' Not without Theseus."* Meaning that Proverbe.
suche a thing was not done without great helpe of another. ^ Not without
Howbeit it is certaine that Theseus self dyd many actes, eseus.
without ayde of any man, and that for his valiantnes this
proverbe came in use, which is spoken : ' This is another Proverbe.
' Theseus.' Also he dyd helpe Adrastus kino- of the Arrives, 'This is ano-^
to recover the bodyes of those that were slayne in the battell, neseus.

before the cittie of Thebes. Howbeit it was not, as the poet
Euripides sayeth, by force of amies, after he had overcome
the Thebans in battell : but it was by composition. And
thus the greatest number of the most auncient writers doe
declare it. Furthermore, Philochorus writeth, that this was
the first treatie that ever was made to recover the dead
bodyes slayne in battell : nevertheles we doe reade in the
histories and gestes of Hercules, that he was the first that
ever suffered his enemies to carye awaye their dead bodyes,
after they had bene put to the sword. But whosoever he
was, at this daye in the village of Eleutheres, they doe showe
the place where the people were buried, and where princes
tumbes are seene about the cittie of Eleusin, which he made
at the request of Adrastus. And for testimonie hereof, the
tragedie iEschilus made of the Eleusinians, where he causeth

59

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

THESEUS

Theseus val-
liantnes the
cause of Piri-
thous friend-
shippe with
him.

Pirithous and
Theseus
sworne bre-
thern in the
field.

Pirithous
maried Dei-
damia.

The Lapithae

overcomenthe

Centauri.

Theseus and
Hercules met
at Trachina.

it to be spoken even thus to Theseus himself, dothe clerely
overthrowe the petitioners in Euripides. Touching the
friendshippe betwixt Pirithous and him, it is sayed it beganne
thus. The renowne of his valliancy was marvelously blowen
abroade through all Grece, and Pirithous desirous to knowe
it by experience, went even of purpose to invade his countrye,
and brought awaye a certaine bootie of oxen of his taken out
of the countrye of Marathon. Theseus being advertised
therof, armed straight, and went to the rescue. Pirithous
hearing of his comming, fled not at all, but returned backe
sodainly to mete him. And so sone as they came to see one
another, they both wondred at eche others beawtie and
corage, and so had they no desire to fight. But Pirithous
reaching out his hande first to Theseus, sayed unto him. I
make your selfe judge of the damage you have susteined by
my invasion, and with all my harte I will make suche satisfac-
tion, as it shall please you to assesse it at. Theseus then
dyd not only release him, of all the damages he had done,
but also requested him he would become his friend, and
brother in armes. Hereupon they were presently sworne
brethren in the fielde : after which othe betwixt them,
Pirithous maried Deidamia, and sent to praye Theseus to
come to his mariage, to visite his countrye, and to make
merye with the Lapithas. He had bidden also the Centauri
to the feast : who being druncke, committed many lewde
partes, even to the forcing of women. Howbeit the Lapithae
chasticed them so well, that they slewe some of them pre-
sently in the place, and drave the rest afterwards out of all
the countrye by the helpe of Theseus, who armed him selfe,
and fought on their side. Yet Herodotus writeth the
matter somewhat contrarie, saying that Theseus went not at
all untill the warre was well begonne : and that it was the
first time that he sawe Hercules, and spake with him neere
unto the cittie of Trachina, when he was then quiet, having
ended all his farre voyages, and greatest troubles. They
reporte that this meeting together was full of great cheere,
much kindnes, and honorable entertainement betwene them,
and howe great curtesie was offred to eache other. Never-
theles me thincks we should geve better credit to those
60

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

writers that saye they mett many times together, and that THESEUS
Hercules was accepted and receyved into the brotherhed of
the mysteries of Eleusin, by the meanes of the countenaunce
and favour which Theseus showed unto him : and that his
purification also was thereby allowed of, who was to be
purged of necessitie of all his ill deedes and cruelties, before
he could enter into the companie of those holy mysteries.
Furthermore, Theseus was fiftie yeres olde when he tooke Theseus fiftie
awaye Hellen and ravished her, which was very younge, and y^re olde
not of age to be maried, as Hellanicus sayeth. By reason ^"^" "^

•/ •/ r3,visiii*fl

whereof, some seeking to hyde the ravishcment of her as a Hellen
haynous facte, doe reporte it was not he, but one Idas and
Lynceus that caryed her awaye, who left her in his custodie
and keeping : and that Theseus would have kept her from
them, and would not have delivered her to her brethern Castor
and Pollux, which afterwardes dyd demaunde her againe of
him. Others againe save it was her owne father Tyndarus,
who gave her him to keepe, for that he was afFrayed of
Enarsphorus the sonne of Hippocoon, who would have had
her away by force. But that which commeth nearest to
the trothe in this case, and which in deede by many authors
is testified, was in this sorte. Theseus and Pirithous went The manner
together to the cittie of Lacedaemon, where they tooke awaye of Hellens
Hellen (being yet very younge) even as she was dauncing in ravishement.
the temple of Diana surnamed Orthia : and they fled for life. Diana Orthia.
They of Lacedaemon sent after her, but those that followed
went no further then the cittie of Tegea. Now when they
were escaped out of the countrye of Peloponnesus, they
agreed to drawe lots together, which of them two should
have her, with condition that whose lot it were to have her,
he should take her to his wife, and should be bound also to
helpe his companion to get him another. It was Theseus
happe to light upon her, who caryed her to the cittie of Theseus lefte
Aphidnes, bicause she was yet to younge to be maried. Hellen in the
Whether he caused his mother to come to bring her up, and "^V^? ^^
gave his friend called Aphidnus the charge of them both, " ^ ' "*^"^"
recommending her to his good care, and to kepe it so secretly,
that no bodye should knowe what was become of her.
Bicause he would doe the like for Pirithous (according to

61

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

THESEUS

Theseus went

withPirithous

into Epirus,

to steale

Proserpina

Aidoneus

daughter.

Pirithous
tome in peces
with Cerberus.

Theseus close
prisoner.

The warre of
the Tyndari-
des against
the Athe-
nians.

th' agrement made betwext them) he went into Epirus with
him to steale the daughter of Aidoneus, king of the Molos-
sians, who had surnamed his wife Proserpina, his daughter
Proserpina, and his dogg Cerberus : with whom he made
them fight which came to aske his daughter in mariage,
promising to geve her to him that should overcome his
Cerberus. But the King understanding that Pirithous was
come, not to request his daughter in mariage, but to steale
her away, he tooke him prisoner with Theseus : and as for
Pirithous, he caused him presently to be torne in peces with
his dogge, and shut Theseus up in close prison. In this
meane time there was one at Athens called Menestheus, the
Sonne of Peteus : which Peteus was the sonne of Orneus, and
Orneus was the sonne of Erictheus. This Menestheus was
the first that beganne to flatter the people, and did seeke to
winne the favour of the communaltie, by sweete entising
words : by which devise he stirred up the chiefest of the
cittie against Theseus (who in deede long before beganne to
be wearie of him) by declaring unto them howe Theseus had
taken from them their royalties and signiories, and had shut
them up in suche sorte within the walles of a cittie, that he
might the better keepe them in subjection and obedience in
all things, after his will. The poor inferiour sorte of people,
he dyd stirre up also to rebellion, persuading them that it
was no other then a dreame of libertie which was promised
them : and howe contrariwise they were clearely dispossest
and throwen out of their own houses, of their temples, and
from their naturall places where they were borne, to thend
only, that in liewe of many good and loving lordes which
they were wont to have before, they should now be compelled
to serve one onely hedde, and a straunge lorde. Even as
Menestheus was very hotte about this practise, the warre
of the Tyndarides fell out at that instant, which greatly
furthered his pretence. For these Tyndarides (to wit the
children of Tyndarus) Castor and Pollux, came downe with
a great armie, against the cittie of Athens : and some suspect
sore that Menestheus was cause of their comming thither.
Howbeit at the first entrie they dyd no hurte at all in the
eountrye, but only demaunded restitution of their sister.
62

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

To whom the citizens made aunswer, that they knewe not THESEUS
where she was left : and then the brethern beganne to make
spoyle, and offer warre in deede. Howbeit there was one
called Academus, who having knowledge (I can not tell by
what meane) that she was secretly hidden in the cittie of
Aphidnes, revealed it unto them. By reason whereof the
Tyndarides did alwayes honour him very much, so long as
he lived, and afterwards the Lacedaemonians, having ofte
burnt and destroyed the whole countrye of Attica through-
out, they would yet never touch the Academy of Athens for
Academus sake. Yet Dicearchus sayeth, that in the armie
of the Tyndarides there were two Arcadians, Echedemus,
and Marathus, and howe of the name of one of them, it was
then called the place of Echedemie, which sithence hath bene Academia
called Academia : and after the name of the other, there why so called,
was a village called Marathon, bicause he willingly offered Marathon,
him self to be sacrificed before the battell, as obeying the
order and commandement of a prophecie. So they went and Aphidnes
pitched their campe before the cittie of Aphidnes, and wonne and
having wonne the battell, and taken the cittie by assault, E?*^^^ by the
they raced the place. They saye that Alycus, the sonne of ^
Sciron was slaine at this field, who was in the hoaste of the
Tyndarides, and that after his name, a certaine quarter of Alycus Sci-
the territorie of Megara was called Alycus, in the which his ^^^^ sonne
bodye was buried. Howbeit Hereas writeth that Theseus batSo?
self dyd kill him before Aphidnes : In witnes whereof he Aphidnes.
alledgeth certain verses which speake of Alycus.

While as he sought with all his might and mayue

(in thy defence, fayer Hellen for to fight)
111 Aphidnes, upon the pleasauiit playne,

bold Theseus to cruell deathe him dight.

Howbeit it is not likely to be true, that Theseus being
there, the cittie of Aphidnes, and his mother also were taken.
But when it was wonne, they of Athens beganne to quake
for feare, and Menestheus counselled them to receyve the
Tyndarides into the cittie, and to make them good chere, so
they would make no warres but upon Theseus, which was the
first that had done them the wrong and injurie : and that

63

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

THESEUS to all other els they should showe favour and good will.
And so it fell out. For when the Tyndarides had all in
their power to doe as they listed, they demaunded nothing
els but that they might be received into their corporation,
and not to be reckoned for straungers, no more then Hercules
was : the which was graunted the Tyndarides, and Aphidnus
dyd adopt them for his children, as Pylius had adopted
Hercules. Moreover they dyd honour them as if they had
bene godds, calling them Anaces. Either bicause they ceased
the warres, or for that they ordered them selves so well, that
their whole armie being lodged within the cittie, there was
not any hurte or displeasure done to any persone : but as it
became those that have the charge of any thing, they did
carefully watche to preserve the good quiet thereof. All
which this Greke word Anacos doth signifie, wherof per-
chaunce it comes that they call the kings Anactes. There
are others also who holde opinion that they were called
Anaces, bicause of their starres which appeared in the ayer.
For the Attican tongue sayeth, Anacas, and Atiecathen :
where the comon people saye Ano, and Anotlien^ that is
to saye, above. Nevertheles ^thra, Theseus mother, was
caried prisoner to Lacedaemon, and from thence to Troia
with Hellen, as some saye : and as Homer him self doth
witnesse in his verses, where he speaketh of the women that
followed Hellen.

iEthra the daughter deare of Pitheus aged Syre,

and with her fayer Clymene she, whose eyes most men desire.

Yet there are other who aswell reject these two verses,
and mainteine they are not Homers : as also they reprove
all that is reported of Munychus. To wit, that Laodice

' '^""^''* being prively conceived of him by Demophon, he was brought

up secretly by ^thra within Troia. But Hister the his-
torien in his thirtenth of his histories of Attica, maketh
a recitall farre contrary to other, saying: that some hold
opinion, that Paris Alexander was slayne in battell by
Achilles, and Patroclus in the countrye of Thessalie, neere

Sperchius fl. to the river of Sperchius, and that his brother Hector tooke
the cittie of Troezen, from whence he brought awaye iEthra :
64

The Tynda-
rides honour-
ed as godds,
and called
Anaces.

Cicero de Nat.
dear. lib. 3.

Kings called
Anactes.

Anaces why
so called.

iTlthra taken
prisoner, and
caried to
Lacedaemon.

Divers
opinions of
Homers

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

in which there is no manner of apparance or likelihodde. THESEUS
But .-Edoneus king of the Molossians, feasting Hercules one
daye as he passed through his realme, descended by chaunce
into talke of Theseus and of Pirithous, howe they came to
steale away his daughter secretly : and after told how they
were also punished, Hercules was marvellous sorye to
understand that one of them was now dead, and the other in
daunger to dye, and thought with him self that to make his
mone to -iEdoneus, it would not helpe the matter : he be-
sought him only that he would deliver Theseus for his sake.
And he graunted him. Thus Theseus being delivered of Theseus deli-
this captivitie, returned to Athens, where his friends were ^^f^d out of
not altogether kept under by his enemies : and at his returne c^es^meanes'
he dyd dedicate to Hercules all the temples, which the cittie
had before caused to be built in his owne honour. And
where first of all they were called Thesea, he did now surname
them all Herculea, excepting foure, as Philochorus writeth.
Nowe when he was arrived at Athens, he would immediately
have commaunded and ordered things as he was wont to doe:
but he found him self troubled much with sedition, bicause
those who had hated him of long time, had added also to
their old canckered hate, a disdain and contempt to feare The Athe-
him any more. And the comon people now were become niansdisdaine
so stubborn, that where before they would have done all that ^^ ^^
they were commanded, and have spoken nothing to the con-
trarie : now they looked to be borne with, and flattered.
Whereupon Theseus thought at the first to have used force,
but he was forced by the faction and contention of his
enemies to let all alone, and in the end, despairing he should
ever bring his matters to passe to his desire, he secretly sent
away his children into the He of Eubcea, to Elphenor the
Sonne of Chalcodus. And him self, after he had made many
wishes and curses against the Athenians, in the village of
Gargettus, in a place which for that cause to this daye is
called Araterion : (that is to saye, the place of cursings) he
did take the seas, and went into the He of Sciros, where he Tlieseus fled
had goods, and thought also to have founde friends, f'"^"^ Athens
Lycomedes raigned at that time, and was king of the He, 3^*^08^^ "^
unto whom Theseus made request for some lande, as intend-
I 65

THESEUS

Theseus
cruelly slayue
by Lycome-
des.

Menestheus
king of
Athens.

Theseus
sonnes.

Cimon taketh
the He of
Sciros and
bringethThe
seus bones to
Athens.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

ing to dwell there : albeit some saye that he required him
to give him ayde against the Athenians. Lycomedes, were
it that he douted to entertaine so great a personage, or that
he dyd it to gratifie Menestheus : caried him up to the high
rocks, faining as though he would from thence have shewed
him all his countrye round about. But when he had him
there, he threw him downe hedlong from the toppe of the
rocks to the bottome, and put him thus unfortunately to
death. Yet other write, that he fell down of him self by an
unfortunate chaunce, walking one daye after supper as he
was wont to doe. There was no man at that time that dyd
foUowe or pursue his death, but Menestheus quietly remained
king of Athens : and the children of Theseus, as private
souldiers followed Elphenor in the warres of Troia. But
after the death of Menestheus, who died in the jorney to
Troie, Theseus sonnes returned unto Athens, where they
recovered their state. Sithence there were many occasions
which moved the Athenians to reverence and honour him as
a demy god. For in the battell of Marathon, many thought
they sawe his shadow and image in armes, fighting against
the barbarous people. And after the warres of the Medes
(the yere wherein Phaedon was governour of Athens) the
nunne Pithia answered the Athenians, who had sent to the
oracle of Apollo : that they should bring backe the bones of
Theseus, and putting them in some honorable place, they
should preserve and honour them devoutely. But it was a
harde matter to finde his grave : and if they had founde it,
yet had it bene a harder thing to have brought his bones
awaye, for the malice of those barbarous people which in-
habited that He : which were so wild and fierce, that none
could trade or live with them. Notwithstanding Cimon
having taken the Hand (as we have written in his life) and
seeking his grave : perceived by good happe an eagle pecking
with her beake, and scraping with her clawes in a place of
some prety height. Straight it came into his minde (as by
divine inspiration) to searche and digge the place : where
was founde the tumbe of a great bodye, with the head of a
speare which was of brasse, and a sword with it. All which
things were brought to Athens bv Cimon in the admirall

m

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

gallic. The Athenians received them with great joye, with THESEUS
processions and goodly sacrifices, as if Theseus him self had Theseus
bene a live, and had returned into the cittie againe. At this tumbe.
daye all these relicks lye yet in the middest of the cittie,
neere to the place where the younge men doe use all their -
exercises of bodye. There is free libertie of accesse for all
slaves and poore men, (that are afflicted and pursued, by any
mightier then themselves) to pray and sacrifice in remem-
braunce of Theseus : who while he lived was protectour of
the oppressed, and dyd curteously receive their requests and
petitions that prayed to have ayde of him. The greatest
and most solemne sacrifice they doe unto him, is on the
eight daye of October, in which he returned from Creta,
Avith the other younge children of Athens. Howbeit they
doe not leave to honour him every eight daye of all other
moneths, either bicause he arrived from Troezen at Athens
the eight daye of lune, as Diodorus the Cosmographer
writeth : or for that they thought that number to be
meetest for him, bicause the bruite ranne he was begotten
of Neptune. They doe sacrifice also to Neptune, the eight Neptune why
daye of every moneth, bicause the number of eight is the c^Hed Aspha-
first cube made of even number, and the double of the first G!L1(fc'hus
square : which dothe represent a stedfastnes immoveable,
properly attributed to the might of Neptune, whom
for this cause we surname Asphalius, and Gseiochus,
which by interpretation dothe signifie : the safe
keeper, and the stayer of the earthe.

THE ENDE OF THESEUS LIFE

67

LIVES OF THE NOBLE
THE LIFE OF ROMULUS

Divers opin-
ions about
the name of
Rome.

Tybris fl.

HE Historiographers doe not agree in their
writings, by whom, nor for what cause,
the great name of the cittie of Rome (the
glorie wherof is blowen abroad through
all the worlde) was first geven unto it.
For some thincke that the Pelasgians,
after they had overcome the greatest
parte of the world, and had inhabited
and subdued many nations, in the ende dyd staye them
selves in that place where it was newe buylded : and for
their great strength and power in armes, they gave the
name of Rome unto the cittie, as signifying power in the
Greeke tongue. Other saye, that after the taking and
destruction of Troy a, there were certain Troyans which
saving them selves from the sworde, tooke suche vessells as
they founde at adventure in the haven, and were by winds
put with the Thuscane shore, where they anckred neere xmto
the river of Tyber. There their wives being so sore sea
sicke, that possibly they could not any more endure the
boisterous surges of the seas : it happened one of them
among the rest (the noblest and wisest of the companie)
called Roma, to counsaill the other women of her com-
panions to set their shippes a fire, which they dyd accord-
ingly. Wherewith their husbands at the first were mar-
velously offended. But afterwards, being compelled of
necessitie to plant them selves neere unto the cittie of
Pallantium, they were appeased when they sawe things
prosper better then they hoped for, finding the soyle there
fertile, and the people their neighbours civill and gentle in
entertaining them. Wherefore amongest other honours they
dyd to requite this lady Roma, they called their cittie after
her name, as from whom came the originall cause of the
building and foundation thereof. They saye that from
thence came this custome continuing yet to this daye at
Rome, that the women saluting their kinsefolkes and hus-
68

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

bands doe kisse them in the mouthe, for so dyd these ROMULUS
Troyan ladyes to please their husbands, and to winne them The begin-
againe, after they had lost their favours, and procured their ningofkissiug
displeasures with burning of their shippes. Other saye that fof^^s i^^the
Roma was the daughter of Italus, and of Lucaria, or els of mouthe came
Telephus the sonne of Hercules, and of the wife of iEneas : from the Tro-
other saye of Ascanius, the sonne of iEneas, who named the ian women,
cittie after her name. Other holde opinion that it was
Romanus (the sonne of Vlysses and of Circe) that first
founded Rome : other will saye that it was Romus the sonne
of Emathion, whom Diomedes sent thither from Troya.
Other write that it was one Romis a tyranne of the Latines,
who drave the Thuscans out of those partes : which depart-
ing out of Thessaly went first of all into Lydia, and after-
wards from Lydia into Italic. And furthermore, they who
thincke that Romulus (as in deede it carieth best likelyhod)
was he that gave the name to the cittie, doe not agree about
his auncesters. For some of them write, that he was the Fables of Ro-
sonne of ^Eneas and of Dexithea the daughter of Phorbus, mulusbyrthe.
and that he was brought into Italic of a litle childe with
his brother Remus : and that at that time the river of
Tyber being overflowen, all other shippes were cast awaye,
saving the shippe in which the two litle boyes were, which
by great good happe came to a staye upon a very plaine
even grounde on the bancke, and bicause the children be-
yond all hope were saved by this meanes, therefore the place
was afterwardes called Roma. Other saye that Roma the
daughter of the first Troian ladye was maried unto Latinus
the Sonne of Telemachus, by whom she had Romulus. Other
write, that it was Emilia, the daughter of Mneas and of
Lavinia, which was gotten with childe by the god Mars.
Other tell a tale of Romulus birth, nothing true nor likely.
For it is sayed that there was sometime a king of Alba
named Tarchetius, a very wicked and cruell man, in whose
house through the permission of the goddes appeared such a
like vision : that there rose up in the harthe of his chymney
the forme and facion of a mans privie member, which con-
tinued there many dayes. And they saye, that at that time
there was in Thuscane an oracle of Thetis, from whom they

69

Thetis in
Thuscaue.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

ROMULUS brought unto this wicked king Tarchetius suche an aunswer :
All oracle of that he should cause his daughter yet unmaried to have
camall companie with the straunge thing, for she should
beare a sonne, that should be famous for his valliancie, for
strength of bodye, and his happie successe wherein he should
exceede all men of his time. Tarchetius tolde this oracle
imto one of his daughters, and willed her to entertaine this
straunge thing: but she disdaining to doe it, sent one of
her waiting women to undertake the entertainement. But
Tarchetius was so mad at this, that he caused them both to
be taken to put them to death : howbeit the goddesse Vesta
appeared to him in his sleepe in the night, and charged him
he should not doe it. Whereupon he dyd commaund them
to make him a pece of clothe in the prisone, with promise
that they should be maried when they had finished it.
These poore maydes toyled at it all the live longe daye,
but in the night there came other (by Tarchetius com-
maundement) that dyd undoe all they had done the daye
before. In the meane time, this waiting woman that was
gott with childe by this straunge thing, was delivered of
two goodly boyes or twynnes : whom Tarchetius gave unto
one Teratius, with expresse commaundement he should cast
them awaye. This Teratius caryed them unto the bancke
of the river : thither came a shee woulfe and gave them
sucke, and certaine byrdes that brought litle crommes and
put them in their mouthes, untill a swyneheard perceyving
them, and wondring at the sight, dyd boldly goe to the
children, and tooke them awaye with him. These infantes
being thus preserved after they were come to mans state,
dyd set upon Tarchetius and slewe him. One Promathion
an Italian writer, delivereth this storie thus. But the
reporte that carieth best credit of all, and is allowed of
by many writers : commeth from Diodes Peparethian
(whome Fabius Pictor followeth in many thinges), who was
the first that put forth this storie among the Grecians, and
specially the chiefest poynts of it. Though this matter be
somewhat diversely taken, yet in effect the storie is thus.
The right line and bloude of the kings of Alba descended
from iEneas, by succession from the father to the sonne,
70

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

and the Kingdome fell in the ende betweene two brethern, ROMULUS
Numitor and Amulius. They agreed by lotte to make See the frag-
division betweene them, whereof the one to have the King- ??^°.*^ ^^.
dome, and the other all the golde, sylver, readye money, and^of Cato""'
goodes, and juells brought from Troia. Numitor by his
lotte chose the Realme for his portion : Amulius having See also Ha-
all the golde and treasure in his handes, dyd finde him selfe Hcarnasseus,
thereby the stronger, and so dyd easely take his Realme a^n<l ^ • l^^vi^s.
from him. And fearing least his brothers daughter might Romulus
liave children which one day might thrust him out againe, kiured.
he made her a Nunne of the goddesse Vesta, there to passe
her dayes in virginitie, and never to be maried : (some call
iier Rhea, other Sylvia, and other Ilia) nevertheles not Romulus
longe after she was founde with childe, against the rule and mother,
profession of the Vestall Nunnes. So nothing had saved her
from present death, but the petition of Antho the daughter
of king Amulius, who intreated her father for her life : yet
notwithstanding she was straightly locked up, that no body
could see her, nor speake with her, least she should be
brought a bedde without Amulius knowledge. In the ende
she was delivered of two fayre boyes and marveilous great
twynnes : which made Amulius more afFrayed then before.
So he commaunded one of his men to take the two children,
and to thro we them awaye, and destroy e them. Some saye
that this servants name was Faustulus : other thincke it was Faustulus.
he that brought them up. But whosoever he was, he that
had the charge to throwe them awaye, put them in a troughe,
and went towards the river with intention to throwe them
in. Howbeit he found it risen so highe, and running so
swiftely, that he durst not come neere the waters side, and
so they being in the troughe, he layed them on the bancke.
In the meane time the river swelling still, and overflow^ing
the bancke, in such sorte that it came under the troughe :
dyd gently lifte up the troughe, and caried it unto a great
playne, called at this present Cermanum, and in the olde Cermanum.
time Germanum (as I take it) bicause the Romaines called
the brothers of father and mother, Germani. No we there
was neere unto this place a wilde figge tree which they called
Ruminalis, of the name of Romulus as the most parte Ruminalis.

71

The goddesse
Rumilia.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

ROMULUS thought: or els bicause the beasts feeding there were wont
to come under the same in the extreame heate of the daye,
and there dyd Ruminate, that is, chewe their cudde in the
shadowe : or perhappes bicause that the two children dyd
sucke the teate of the woulfe, which the auncient Latines
call Ruma, and they at this day doe yet call the goddesse on
whom they crye out to geve their children sucke, Rumilia.
And in their sacrifices to her they use no wine, but offer up
milke and water mingled with honye. To these two children
lying there in this sorte, they write, there came a she woulfe
and gave them sucke : and a hitwaw also which dyd helpe
to norishe and keepe them. These two beastes are thought
to be consecrated to the god Mars, and the Latines doe
singularly honour and reverence the hitwaw. This dyd
much helpe to geve credit to the wordes of the mother, who
affirmed she was conceyved of those two children, by the god
Mars. Howbeit some thincke she was deceyved in her
opinion : for Amulius that had her maidenhead, went to
her all armed, and perforce dyd ravishe her. Other holde
opinion that the name of the nurce which gave the two
children sucke with her breastes, gave occasion to common
reporte to erre much in this tale, by reason of the double
signification thereof. For the Latines doe call with one
selfe name shee woulfes Lupas^ and women that geve their
bodyes to all commers : as this nurce the wife of Faustulus
(that brought these children home to her house) dyd use to
doe. By her right name she was called Acca Laurentia,
unto whom the Romaines doe sacrifice yet unto this daye :
and the priest of Mars doth offer unto her, in the moneth of
Aprill, the sheading of wine and milke accustomed at
burialls, and the feast it selfe is called Larentia. It is
true that they honour also another Larentia, for like occa-
sion. The clercke or sexten of Hercules temple, not know-
ing one daye howe to drive awaye the time as it should
seeme : of a certaine livelines and boldnes, dyd desire the
god Hercules to playe at dyce with him, with condition that
if he dyd winne, Hercules should be bounde to send him
some good fortune : and if it were his lucke to lose, then he
promised Hercules he would provide him a very good supper,
72

Acca Lauren-
tia Faustulus
wife, that
nurced the
twynnes.

The Greeke
sayeth Laren-
tia.

Larentia
feast.

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

and would besides bring him a fayer gentlewoman to lye ROMULUS
with all. The conditions of the playe thus rehearsed, the
sexten first cast the dyce for Hercules, and afterwards for
him sclfe. It fell out that Hercules wanne, and the sexten
meaning good fayth, and thincking it very mete to performe
the bargaine that him selfe had made, prepared a good
supper, and hyered this Laurentia the courtisan, which was Laurentia a
very fayer, but as yet of no great fame to come to it. Thus courtisan.
having feasted her within the temple, and prepared a bedde
readye there, after supper he locked her into the temple, as
if Hercules should have comen in dede and layen with her.
And it is said for trothe, that Hercules came thither : and
commaunded her in the morning she should goe into the
market place, and salute the first man she met, and kepe
him ever for her friend. Which thing she performed, and
the first man she met was called Tarrutius, a man of great Tarrutius.
yeres, and one that had gathered together marveilous wealth
and riches. He had no children at all, neither was he ever
maried. He fell acquainted with this Laurentia, and loved
her so dearely, that shortely after chauncing to dye, he made
her heire of all he had : whereof she disposed afterwards by
her last will and testament, the best and greatest parte unto
the people of Rome. Moreover it is reported also, that
she now being growen to be famous and of great honour
(as thought to be the lemman of a god) dyd vanishe away
sodainely in the self same place, where the first Laurentia
was buried. The place at this day is called Velabrum : V'elabrum
bicause the river being ovei-flowen, they were oftentimes « hereof Z-ftte
compelled to passe by bote to goe to the market place, and ^^^' ^' ' 7-
they called this manner of ferrying over, Velatura. Other
saye, that those tomblers and common players, which shewed
sundrye games and pastimes to winne the favour of the
people, were wont to cover that passage over with canvas
clothes and veyles, by which they goe from the market place
to the lystes or shewe place where they ronne their horses,
beginning their race even at the place : and they call a veyle
in their tongue. Velum. This is the cause why the seconde
Laurentia is honored at Rome. Faustulus, chief neateheard
to Amulius, tooke up the two children and no bodye knewe
K 73

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

ROMULUS it, as some saye : or as other reporte, (and likest to be true)
with the privitie and knowledge of Numitor, Amulius
brother, who secretly furnished them with money that
brought up the two young children. It is sayed also they
were both conveyed unto the cittie of the Gabians, where
Romulus and they were brought up at schole, and taught all other honest
Remus educa- things, which they use to teache the sonnes and children of
^*^°" good and noble men. Further they saye they were named

Remus and Romulus, bicause they were founde sucking on
the teates of a woulfe. Nowe the beawtie of their bodyes
dyd presently shewe, beholding onely but their stature and
manner of their countenaunces, of what nature and linadge
they were : and as they grewe in yeres, their manly corage
increased marvelously, so as they became stowte and hardy
men, in so much as they were never troubled or astonied at
any daunger that was offered them. Howbeit it appeared
plainely that Romulus had more wit and understanding then
his brother Remus. For in all things wherein they were to
deale with their neighbours, either concerning hunting, or
the boundes and limites of their pastures : it was easely dis-
cerned in him, that he was borne to commaund, and not to
obeye. For this cause they were both exceedingly beloved
of their companions, and of those which were their inferiours.
As for the kings heardmen, they passed not muche for them,
saying that they were even like them selves, and so seemed
not to care a Pynne for their anger or displeasure, but wholy
gave them selves to all gentlemanly exercises and trades,
thincking to live idely and at ease without travell, was
neither comly nor convenient : but to exercise and harden
their bodyes with hunting, running, pursuing murderers
and theeves, and to helpe those which were oppressed with
wronge and violence, shoulde be credit and commendation to
them. By reason whereof, in very shorte time they grewe
to great fame and renowne. And it fell out by chaunce
there rose some stryfe and variance betwene the heardmen
of Amulius, and the heardmen of Numitor : in so muche as
those that were Numitors, caryed awaye by force some cattell
of the others. Thother side would not beare that, but pur-
sued fast after, and beating them well favoredly, they made
74

■^

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

them take their legges, and brought backe againe the greatest ROMULUS
parte of the cattell they had caried away with them. Wherat
Numitor stormed marveilously, but yet his men seemed to
make but litle accoumpt of it, and purposing revenge, they
gathered about them a good companie of vacabonds (that
had neither home, nor resting place) and certaine fugitive
bonde men which they intised ill favoredly, incoraging them
to steale awaye from their masters. Thus one daye whilest
Romulus was busie about some sacrifice, (being a devoute Romulus a
man and religious, and well geven to serve the goddes, and godly man.
to leame to divine and tell before hande what things should
liappen and come to passe) it happened the heard men of
Numitor to meete Remus very slenderly accompanied : so
they fell upon him sodainely, blowes were delt rowndely on
bothe sides, and men were hurte on either parte. Howbeit
Numitors men in the ende proved the stronger parte, and
dyd take Remus by force, and caryed him straight before Remus taken
Numitor, alledging many complaintes and matters against of Numitors
him. Numitor durst not punish him of his owne authoritie,
bicause he feared his brother Amulius, who was somewhat
terrible : but went unto him, and earnestly besought him to
doe him justice, and not to suffer him being his owne brother,
to receyve such injurye of his men. There was not a man in
the cittie of Alba, but dyd greatly mislike the inj urie done
to Numitor : and spake it openly, that he was no persone to
be offered such a wronge. In so muche as Amulius moved
herewith, dyd deliver Remus into his handes, to punishe him
as he thought good. Whereupon Numitor caried him home
with him. But when he had him in his house, he beganne
to consider better of him, with admiration howe goodly a
younge man he was, howe in height and strength of bodye he
passed all the rest of his people : and perceyving in his face
an assured constancie, and bolde stedfast corage that yelded
not, nor was abashed for any daunger he sawe toward him :
and hearing also the reporte of his actes and manhod to be
aunswerable to that he sawe : (being chiefly moved in mine
opinion by some secret inspiration of the goddes, which
ordaine the depthe of great matters) beganne partely by Gods provi-
conjecture, and partely by chaunce to take a conceit of him. dence.

75

ROMULUS

Remus ora-
tion, declar-
ing the birth
ofhim self and
his brother
Romulus.

Numitors
wisdome.

Faustulus
care to save
Remus.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

So he asked him what he was, and who was his father and
mother : speaking to him in a more gentle wise, and with a
friendlier countenaunce then before, to make him the bolder
to answer, and be of better hope. Remus boldly aunswered
him. Truely I will not hide the trothe from thee, for thou
seemest to me more worthie to be King, then thy brother
Amulius. For thou enquierest, and hearest first before
thou condemnest : and he condemneth before he examine or
heare the parties. Untill nowe, we thought we had bene
the children of two of the Kings servants, to wit of Faustulus
and of Laurentia : I saye we, bicause my brother and I are
two twynnes. But seeing we are nowe falsely accused unto
thee, and by malicious surmised tales are wrongefuUy brought
in daunger of our lives : we intend to discover our selves,
and to declare straunge things unto thee, whereof the pre-
sent perill we stande nowe in, shall plainely prove the trothe.
Men saye that we have bene begotten miraculously, fostered
and geven sucke more straungely, and in our tender yeres
were fedd by birdes and wilde beasts, to whom we were cast
out as a praye. For a woulfe gave us sucke with her teates,
and an hitwaw (they saye) brought us litle crommes, and put
them in our mouthes, as we laye upon the bancke by the
river, where we were put in a troughe that at this daye
remaineth whole, bounde about with plates of copper, upon
the which are some letters engraven halfe worne out, which
peradventure one daye will serve for some tokens of know-
ledge (unprofitable for our parents) when it shalbe to late,
and after we are dead and gone. Numitor then comparing
these wordes, with the age the younge man seemed to be of,
and considering well his face : dyd not reject the hope of
his imagination that smiled on him, but handled the matter
so, that he found meanes to speake secretly with his daughter,
notwithstanding at that time she was kept very straightly.
Faustulus in the meane time hearing that Remus was prisoner,
and that the King had delivered him already into the hands
of his brother Numitor to doe justice, went to praye Romulus
to helpe him, and tolde him then whose children they were :
for before he had never opened it to them but in darcke
speaches, and glawnsingwise, and so muche as sufficed to put

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

them in some hope. So Faustulus taking the troughe with ROMULUS
him at that time, went unto Numitor in great haste, as
marveilously afFrayed for the present daunger he thought
Remus in. The Kings souldiers which warded at the gates
of the cittie, beganne to gather some suspition of Faustulus
manner of comming : and he made him selfe to be the more
suspected, being questioned with about the cause of his
repaire thither, that he faltred in his wordes : besides, they
espied his troughe which he caried under his cloke. Nowe
amongest the warders, there was by chaunce one that was
the man to whom the children were committed to be cast
awaye, and was present when they were left on the bancke
of the river to the mercie of fortune. This man knewe the
troughe by and by, aswell by the facion, as by the letters
graven upon it : who mistrusted straight that which was
true in deede. So he dyd not neglect the thing, but went
forthwith to the King to tell him the matter, and led Faus-
tulus with him to have him confesse the trothe. Faustulus
being in this perplexitie, could not kepe all close upon
examination, but dyd utter out somewhat of the matter,
and yet he tolde not all. For he plainely justified the
children were alive : yet he sayed they were farre from the
cittie of Alba, where they kept beastes in the fields. And
as for the troughe, he was going to carye it to Ilia, bicause
she had divers times prayed him to let her see and feele it :
to the ende she might be the more assured of her hope, who
promised her that one daye she should see her children
againe. So it chaunced unto Amulius at that time, as it Amulius per-
commonly dothe unto those that are troubled, and doe any plexed in his
thing in feare or anger, as a man amazed thereat, to send """'i®-
one presently (who in all other things was a very honest man,
but a great friende of his brother Numitors) to aske him if
lie had heard any thing that his daughters children were alive.
This persone being come to Numitors house, founde him
ready to embrace Remus, who fell to be witnes thereof, and
of the good happe discovered unto Numitor : whereupon he
perswaded him howe to set upon liis brother, and to dis-
patche the matter with spede. So from that time forwards,
he tooke their parte. On thother side also the matter gave

77

/^

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

ROMULUS them no leisure to deferre their enterprise, although they
had bene willing : for the whole case was somewhat blowen
abroade. So Romulus then got straight a power, and drewe
very neere the cittie, and many of the citizens of Alba went
out to joyne with him, who either feared or hated Amulius.
Nowe Romulus power which he brought (over and besides
those citizens) was a good number of fighting men, and they
were divided by hundreds, and every hundred had his cap-
taine who marched before his bande, carying litle bundells
of grasse or of boughes tyed to the ende of their poles. The
Latines call these bundels Manipulos, whereof it commeth
that yet at this daye in an armie of the Romaines, the
souldiers which are all under one ensigne, are called Manipu-
lares. So Remus sturring up those that were within the
cittie, and Romulus bringing in men from without, the
tyranne Amulius fell in suche feare and agonie, that with-
out providing any thing for his safety, they came upon him
sodainly in his palace, and slewe him. Thus you heare howe
neere Fabius Pictor and Diodes Peparethian doe agree in
reciting the storie, who was the first in mine opinion that
wrote the foundation of the cittie of Rome : howbeit there
are that thincke they are all but fables and tales devised of
pleasure. But me thincks for all that, they are not alto-
gether to be rejected or discredited, if we will consider
fortunes straunge effects upon times, and of the greatnes
also of the Romaine empire : which had never atchieved to
her present possessed power and authoritie, if the goddes
had not from the beginning bene workers of the same, and
if there had not also bene some straunge cause, and won-
derfull foundation. Amulius being nowe slayne as before,
and after that all things were appeased, and reduced to good
order againe : Remus and Romulus would not dwell in the
cittie of Alba, being no lordes thereof, nor also would be
lords of it, so long as their grandfather by the mothers side
was alive. Wherefore after they had restored him to his
estate, and had done the honour and duety they ought unto
their mother : they purposed to goe and build a cittie in
those places where they had bene first brought up, for this
was the lionestest culler they could pretend for their depart-
78

Manipulares
whereof so
called.

Amulius
slayne.

The building
of Rome.

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

ing from Alba. Peradventurc they were enforced so to doe ROMULUS
Avhether they Avould or not, for the great number of banished
men, and fugitive slaves which were gathered together by
them for their strength, who had bene utterly lost and cast
away, if they had bene once discharged by them. Therfore
it was of necessitie that they should dwell by them selves,
separated in some place, to kepe this number together and
in some order. For it is true that the inhabitants of the
cittie of Alba would not suffer such banished persones and
runnagates to be mingled amongest them, nor would receave
them into their cittie to be free among them. All which
appeareth sufficiently : first, bicause they tooke awaye
women by force : and so not of insolencie, but of necessitie,
when they founde no man that would bestow any of them.
It is manifest also they dyd greately honour and make much
of the women they had taken away before. Furthermore,
when their cittie beganne a litle to be setled, they made a
temple of refuge for all fugitives and afflicted persones,
which they called the temple of the god Asylaeus. Where Asylieus
there was sanctuarie and safety for all sortes of people that temple, a
repaired thither, and could get into the temple, for whom it sanctuarie for
was alledged they could not deliver any bonde man to his persones aud
master, nor detter to his creditor, nor murtherer to the fugitives,
justice that was fled thither for succor, bicause the oracle of
Apollo the Delphian had expressely enjo3med them to graunte
sanctuary to all those that would come thither for it. So
by this meanes in shorte space their cittie florished, and was
repleanished, where at the first foundation of it, they saye
there was not above one thousand houses, as more at large
hereafter shalbe declared. When they came nowe to the
building of their cittie, Romulus and Remus the two brethern
fell sodainely at a strife together about the place where the
cittie should be builded. For Romulus built Rome, which Strife betwixt
is called foure square, and would needes it should remaine Romulus aud
in the place which he had chosen. Remus his brother chose R^"^"^-
another place very strong of situation, upon mounte Aventine,
which was called after his name Remonium, and nowe is Remonium.
called Rignarium. Notwithstanding, in the ende they agreed Riguarium.
betwene them selves this controversie should be decided, by

79

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

ROMULUS the flying of birds, which doe geve a happy divination of
things to come. So being sett in divers places by them selves
to make observation, some saye that there appeared unto
Remus sixe, and to Romulus twelve vulters. Other saye
that Remus truely sawe sixe, and Romulus feigned from the
beginning that he sawe twise as many : but when Remus
came to him, then there appeared twelve in deede unto
Romulus, and this is the cause why the Romaines at this
daye in their divinations and soothesayings of the flying of
The Romaiiis birds, doe marvelously observe the flying of the vulters. It
observe the j^ true which the historiographer Herodorus Ponticus writeth :
flying of vul- ^Y^Q^ Hercules rejoyced much when there appeared a vulter
to him, being readie to beginne any enterprise. For it is
the foule of the worlde that dothe least hurte, and never
marreth nor destroyeth any thing that man dothe sowe,
plante, or set : considering that she feedeth on carion only,
and dothe never hurte nor kill any living thing. Also she
dothe not praye upon dead fowle, for the likenes that is
betwene them : where the eagles, the dukes and the sakers
doe murther, kill, and eate those which are of their owne
kynde. And yet as iEschylus sayeth,

Needes must that fowle accompted be most vile,
most ravening, and full of filthie miude.

Which doth him self, continually defile,
by praying still upon his propre kinde.

Moreover, other birdes are allwayes (as a man would saye)
before our eyes, and doe daylie shewe them selves unto us :
where the vulter is a very rare byrde, and hardely to be
scene, and men doe not easely finde their ayeries. Which
hathe geven some occasion to holde a false opinion, that the
vulters are passagers, and come into these partes out of
straunge countryes. The prognosticators also thincke, that
suche things which are not ordinarie, and but seldome seene,
be not naturall, but miraculously sent by the goddes to
prognosticate something. When Remus knewe howe his
brother had mocked him, he was very angry with him. And
when Romulus had cast a dytche, as it were for the wall
about his cittie, Remus dyd not only scome it, but hindered
also his worke, and in the ende for a mockerie lept over his

80

^

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

wall. To conclude, he dyd so much, that at the last he was ROMULUS
slayne there by Romulus o^vne handes as some saye : or as Remus slayne
other holde opinion, by the handes of one of his men which by Romulus
was called Celer. In this fight they slewe Faustulus, and "^ ^ ^^'
Plistinus also his brother, who had holpen him to bring up
Romulus. Howsoever the matter fell out, this Celer absented
him selfe from Rome, and went into the countrye of Thus-
cane. And they saye, that men which are quicke, and readye Celeres wher-
upon a sodaine, tooke their names ever after upon him, and ^^^^ ^" called,
were called Celeres. As amongest other, Quintus Metellus, Q. Metellus
after the death of his father, having in very fewe dayes made *^^^^''-
the people of Rome to see a combate of fensers (called Gladia-
tores) fighting at the sharpe, they surnamed him Celer, for
that the Romaines marvelled howe he could prepare his
things in so shorte a time. Furthermore, Romulus having
nowe buried his brother, and his other two bringers up
(called foster fathers) in the place they call Remonia : beganne
then to buyld and laye the foundation of his cittie, sending Romulus
for men out of Thuscane, who dyd name and teache him layeth the
particularly all the ceremonies he had to observe there, foundation
according to their lawes and ordinances as a great holy
mysterie. And first of all they made a rounde dytche in the
place called at this day Comitium, into which they dyd cast
their chiefest and best things, which men use lawfully for
good, and naturally as most necessarie. After that they dyd
throwe also into it, a litle of the earthe, from whence every
man came, and mingled these all together. This dytche in
their ceremonies is called the worlde, in Latine Mundus, Tlie world,
even the selfe same name the Latines call the Universal].
About this dytche they dyd trace the compasse of the cittie
they woulde buylde, even as one would drawe a circle about
a center. This done, the founder of the cittie taketh a
plough, to which he fastened a culter or ploughe share of
brasse, and so yoked in the ploughe an oxe and a cowe, he
him selfe holding the ploughe dyd make rounde about the
compasse of the cittie a deepe furrowe. Those which fol-
lowed him, had the charge to throwe the turves of earthe
inward into the cittie, which the ploughe share raised up,
and r.ot to leave any of them turned outward. The furrowe
L ' 81

ROMULUS

PomcErium
why so called.

The walles
holye.

The feast day
of Romes
foundation
the21.Aprill.

The feast
Palilia.

An eclypse of
the moone at
the laying of
the founda-
tion of Rome.

Varro a philo-
sopher.

Tarutius a
mathemati-
cian.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

thus cast up was the whole compasse of their walle, which
they call in Latine Pomcerium, by shortning of the syllables,
for post muriim : to wit, 'after wall."* But in the place where
they determined to make a gate, they dyd take of the
ploughe share, and drawe the ploughe, with leaving a certain
space of earthe unbroken up : whereupon the Romaines thincke
all the compasse of their walles holy and sacred, except their
gates. For if their gates had bene hallowed and sanctified,
they would have had a conscience through them ^o have
brought in, or caried out of the cittie, any things necessarie
for the life of man, that had not bene pure and cleane. Nowe
they beleeve certainely, that this ceremonie of the founda-
tion of their cittie was made the one and twentie of Aprill :
bicause the Romaines doe yet keepe that daye holy daye,
and call it the feast of the nativitie of their countrye. On
which daye they dyd not in olde time sacrifice any thing
that had life, as esteeming that daye (which was the nativitie
of their cittie) to be most mete to be kept cleane and pure
from being polluted or defiled with any bloude. Notwith-
standing before Rome was buylded, they had another feast
called the sheapeheards or heardmens holy daye, which they
dyd celebrate upon the same daye, and called it Palilia.
Nowe at this daye the beginnings of the moneths with the
Romaines is cleane contrarie to the Grecians : yet for all
this, they holde opinion for certaintie that the daye on
which Romulus founded his cittie, was assuredly that which
the Grecians call Triacada : that is to saye, the thirtie daye.
On which there was seene an eclypse of the moone, which
they suppose was observed by the Poet Antimachus (borne
in the cittie of Teos) in the thirtenth yere of the sixt Olym-
piade. Likewise in the time of Marcus Varro (as a man
learned, and one that had redde as much of auncient stories
as any Romaine) there was a friend of his called Tarutius, a
great philosopher and mathematician. Who being geven to
the calculation of astronomic for the delight of speculation
only, wherein he was thought most excellent : it dyd fall out
that Varro gave him this question, to searche out what hower
and daye the nativitie of Romulus was, who gathered it out
by certaine accidents, as they doe in the resolutions of cer-
8^

^

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

taine geometricall questions. For they saye, that by the ROMULUS

selfe same science, one maye tell before of things to come,

and to happen to a man in his life, knowing certainely the

hower of his nativitie : and howe one maye tell also the The hower of

hower of his nativitie, when by accidents they knowe what a mans nati-

hath happened to him all his life. Tarutius dyd the ques- ^^*^® ["f^f Y^

tion that Varro gave him. And having throughely con- hisTccidents^

sidered the adventures, dedes, and gestes of Romulus, howe

long he lived, and howe he dyed : all which being gathered

and conferred together, he dyd boldly judge for a certaintie,

that he was conceyved in his mothers wombe, in the first Romulus

yere of the seconde Olympiade, the three and twentie daye nativitie cal-

of the moneth which the ^Egyptians call.Ghaeac, and now is Jj^^^*^. ^

called December, about three of the clocke in the morning,

in which hower there was a whole eclypse of the sunne : An eclypse of

And that he was borne into the worlde, the one and twenteth the sunne

of the moneth of Thoth, which is the moneth of September, ^'^^^ Romu-

about the rising of the sunne. And that Rome was begonne ggjygjj j^ ^jg

by him on the ninth daye of the moneth which the ^gyp- mothers

tians call Pharmuthi, and aunswereth now to the moneth of wombe.

Aprill, betweene two and three of the clocke in the morning.

For they will saye that a cittie hathe his revolution and his

time of continuaunce appointed, as well as the life of a man :

and that they knewe by the situation of the starres, the

daye of her beginning and foundation. These things and

suche other like, peradventure will please the readers better,

for their straungenes and curiositie, then offend or mislike

them for their falsehood. No we after he had founded his

cittie, he first and foremost dyd divide in two companies, all The Romaine

those that were of age to carie armour. In every one of legion.

these companies there were three thousand footemen, and 3000 foote-

three hundred horsemen : and they were called Legions, "i^"-

bicause they were sorted of the chosen men that were pvckt horse-

• 111611

out amongest all the rest for to fight. The remaine after
these was called Populus, which signifieth the people. After
this, he made a hundred counsellers of the best and honestest Romulus
men of the cittie, which he called Patricians : and the whole instituteth
company of them together he called Senatus, as one would » cornmon
saye. the counsell of the auncients. So they were called

83

ROMULUS

What the
Patricians and
Senate were.

Patres
Conscripti.

Patroni.
Clieutes.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

Patricians, as some will saye, the coimsaill of the fathers
lawfull children, which fewe of the first inhabitants could
shewe. It maye be, some will saye this name was geven
them of Patrocinium, as growing of the protection they had
by the sanctuarie of their cittie, which worde they use at
this daye in the selfe same signification : as one that followed
Evander into Italic, was called Patron, bicause he was pitie-
full, and relieved the poore and litle children, and so got him
selfe a name for his pitie and humanitie. But me thinckes
it were more like the trothe to saye, that Romulus dyd call
them so, bicause he thought the chiefest men should have a
fatherly care of the meaner sorte : considering also it was to
teache the meaner sorte that they should not fear th' autho-
ritie of the greater, nor envie at their honours they had, but
rather in all their causes should use their favour and good
will, by taking them as their fathers. For even at this
present, straungers call those of the Senate, lordes or cap-
taines : but the naturall Romaines call them, Patres Con-
scripti, which is a name of fatherhed and dignitie without
envie. It is true that at the beginning they were only
called Patres, but sithence, bicause they were many joyned
unto the first, they have bene named Patres Conscripti, as a
man should saye, fathers of recorde together : which is the
honorablest name he could have devised to make a difference
betwext the Senatours, and the people. Furthermore, he
made a difference betweene the chiefer cittizens, and the baser
people, by calling the better sorte Patroni, as muche to saye,
as defenders : and the meaner sorte Clientes, as you would
saye, followers, or men protected. This dyd breede a mar-
vellous great love and good will among them, making the
one much beholding to the other, by many mutuall curtesies
and pleasures : for the Patrons dyd helpe the clients to their
right, defended their causes in judgement, dyd geve unto
them counsaill, and dyd take all their matters in hande.
The clients againe enterchaungeably humbled them selves to
their patrons, not onely in outwarde honour and reverence
towardes them, but otherwise dyd helpe them with money
to marrie and advaunce their daughters, or els to paye their
dettes and credit, if they were poore or decayed. There was
84

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

no lawe nor magistrate that could compell the patron to be ROMULUS
a witnes against his client : nor yet the client to witnesse
against his patron. So they increased, and continued, all
other rights and offices of amitie and friendshippe together,
saving afterwards they thought it a great shame and reproache The shame of
for the better, and richer, to take rewarde of the meaner and the Romaines
poorer. And thus of this matter we have spoken sufficiently. *" "^^^ S' *^^
Moreover, foure moneths after the foundation of the cittie
was layed, Fabius writeth, there was a great ravishement of
women. There are some which laye it upon Romulus, who
being then of nature warlike, and geven to prophecies and
aunswers of the goddes, foretolde that his cittie should
become very great and mightie, so as he raysed it by warres,
and increased it by armes : and he sought out this culler
to doe mischief, and to make warre upon the Sabynes. To
prove this true, some saye he caused certaine of their maydes The ravishe-
by force to be taken awaye, but not past thirtie in number, ment of the
as one that rather sought cause of warres, then dyd it for Sabynes
neede of mariages : which me thinckes was not likely to be ^^'"^°-
true, but rather I judge the contrarie. For seeing his cittie
was incontinently repleanished with people of all sortes,
whereof there were very fewe that had wives, and that they
were men gathered out of all countryes, and the most parte
of them poore and needye, so as their neighbours disdayned
them much, and dyd not looke they would longe dwell
together : Romulus hoping by this violent taking of their
maydes and ravishing them, to have an entrie into alliance
with the Sabynes, and to entise them further to joyne with
them in mariage, if they dyd gentely intreate these wives Romulus
they had gotten, enterprised this violent taking of their crafte a,bout
maydes, and ravishing of them in suche a sorte. First he *^® t^^f^th
made it to be commonly bruited abroade in every place, that Sabvnes
he had founde the altar of a god hidden in the grounde, and daughters.
he called the name of the god, Consus : either bicause he Census a god.
was a god of counsaill, wherupon the Romaines at this daye
in their tongue call Consilium, which we call counsell : and
the chief magistrates of their cittie Consules, as we saye Neptuue the
counsellers. Other saye it was the altar of the god Neptune, god of horse-
surnamed the patron of horses. For this altar is yet at this "^^"•

85

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

ROMULUS daye within the great listes of the cittic, and ever covered
and hidden, but when they use the running games of their
horse race. Other saye bicause counsell ever must be kept
close and secret, they had good reason to kepe the altar of
this god Consus hidden in the grounde. Nowe other write
when it was opened, Romulus made a sacrifice of wonderfull
joye, and afterwardes proclaymed it openly in divers places,
that at suche a daye there should be common playes in Rome,
and a solemne feast kept of the god Consus, where all that
were disposed to come should be welcome. Great numbers
of people repaired thither from all partes. He him selfe
was set in the chiefest seate of the showe place, apparelled
fayer in purple, and accompanied with the chiefe of his
cittie about him. And there having purposed this ravishe-
ment you have heard of, he had geven the signe before : that
the same should beginne, when he should rise up and folde a
playte of his gowne, and unfolde the same againe. Hereupon
his men stoode attending with their swordes : who so sone as
they perceyved the signe was geven, with their swordes drawen
The execution in hande, and with great showtes and cryes ranne violently
of the ravish- on the maydes and daughters of the Sabynes to take them
ment. awaye and ravishe them, and suffered the men to ronne

awaye, without doing them any hurte or violence. So
The number some saye, there were but thirtie ravished, after whose
of the Sabyne names were called the thirtie linages of the people of Rome,
^^'^t" Howbeit Valerius Antias writeth, that there were five

raA IS e . hundred and seven and twentie : and luba, sixe hundred

foure score and three. In the which is singularly to be noted
for the commendation of Romulus, that he him selfe dyd
Hersilia take then but onely one of the maydes, named Hersilia :

llomuluswife. that afterwardes was the only cause and mediation of peace
betwext the Sabynes and the Romaines. Which argueth
plainely, that it was not to doe the Sabynes any hurte, nor
to satisfie any disordinate lust, that they had so forcibly
undertaken this ravishement : but to joyne two peoples to-
gether, with the straightest bondes that could be betweene
men. This Hersilia as some saye, was maried unto one
Hostilius, the noblest man at that time amongest the
Romaines : or as others write, unto Romulus him selfe,
86

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

which had two children by her. The first was a daughter, ROMULUS
and her name was Prima, bicause she was the first : the other Romulus first
was a Sonne, whom he named Aollius, bicause of the multitude daughter
of people he had assembled together in his cittie, and after- ^^J^^'^ Prima,
wardes he was surnamed Abillius. Thus Zenodotus the ^i^^^a^u-*^^
Trcezenian writeth, wherein notwithstanding there be divers
that doe contrarie him. Among those which ravished then Abillius.
the daughters of the Sabynes, it is sayed there were founde
certaine meane men carying away a marvellous passing fayer
one. These met by chaunce on the waye, certaine of the
chief of the cittie, who would have taken her by force from
them, which they had done, but that they beganne to crye
they caried her unto Talassius, who was a younge man
marvellously Avell beloved of every bodye. Which when the
others understoode, they were exceeding glad, and they
commended them : in so much as there were some which
sodainely turned backe againe, and dyd accompanie them for
Talassius sake, crying out a lowde, and often on his name.
From whence the custome came, which to this daye the
Romaines synge at their manages, Talassius, like as the Thecausewhy
Grecians synge Hymeneus. For it is sayed he was compted *'^^ Romaines
very happie that he met with this woman. But Sextius ^^ synge le
Sylla a Carthaginian borne, a man very wise, and well Talassius in
learned, tolde me once it was the crye and signe which mariages.
Romulus gave to his men, to beginne the ravishement :
whereupon those which caried them awaye, went crying this
worde Talassius, and that from thence the custome hathe con-
tinued, that they singe it yet at their mariages. Neverthe-
les the most parte of authors, specially luba, thinckes it
is a warning to remember the newe maried women of their
worke, which is to spinne, which the Grecians call Talassia, Talassia.
the Italian words at that time being not mingled with the
Greeke. And if it be true the Romaines used this terme of
Talassia, as we of Grece doe use : we might by conjecture
yeld another reason for it, which should carie a better likely-
hoode and proofe. For when the Sabynes after the battell
had made peace with the Romaines, they put in an article
in favour of the women in the treatie, that they should not
be boundo to serve their husbands in any other worke, but in

87

ROMULUS

Matrimoniall
ceremonie at
Rome.

Sextilis,
August.

Plutar. in his
proble. Con-
sualia.

The Sabynes
what they

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

spinning of wolle. Ever since this custome hathe growen,
that those which geve their daughters in mariage, and those
who leade the bryde, and such as are present at the wedding,
speake in sporte to the newe maried wife, laughing, Talassius :
in token that they doe not leade the bryde for any other
worke or service, but to spinne wolle. Thereof this hathe
bene the use to this daye, that the bryde dothe not of her
selfe come over the threshold of her husbands dore, but she
is hoysed pretely into the house : bicause the Sabyne women
at that time were so lift up, and caried away by force. They
saye also, that the manner of making the shed of the new
wedded wives heare, with the Iron head of a Javeling, came
up then likewise : this storie being a manifest token that
these first mariages were made by force of armes, and as it
were at the swords poynte : as we have written more at large
in the booke, wherein we render and showe the causes of the
Romaines facions and customes. This ravishement was put
in execution about the eightenth daye of the moneth then
called Sextilis, and nowe named August : on which daye
they yet celebrate the feast they call Consalia. Nowe the
Sabynes were good men of warre, and had great numbers of
people, but they dwelt in villages, and not within inclosed
walles : being a thing fit for their noble courages that
dyd feare nothing, and as those who were descended from
the Lacedaemonians. Nevertheles, they seeing them selves
bound and tyed to peace by pledges and hostages, that
were very neere allyed unto them, and fearing their daughters
should be ill intreated : sent ambassadours to Romulus, by
whom they made reasonable offers and persuasions, that their
daughters might be delivered unto them againe, without any
force or violence, and then afterwardes, that he would cause
them to be asked in mariage of their parents, as bothe
reason and lawe would require. To thend that with good
will and consent of all parties, both peoples might contract
amitie and alliance together. Whereunto Romulus made
aunswer, he could not restore the maydes which his people
had taken awaye and maried : but most friendly he prayed
the Sabynes to be contented with their alliance. This
aunswer being returned, and not liked, whilest the princes
88

9

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

and communaltie of the Sabynes were occupied in consulta- ROMULUS
tion, and about the arming of them selves : Acron king of Acron king of
the Ceninenses (a man exceeding couragious and skilful! in the Cenin-
the warres, and one that from the beginning mistrusted the ^'^ses maketh
over bolde and stowte enterprises that Romulus was likely Romulus
to attempt, considering the late ravishment of the Sabynes
daughters, and howe he was alreadye greatly dreaded of his
neighbours, and somwhat untolerable, if he were not chas-
ticed and brought lower) first beganne to invade him with
a puissant armie, and to make hotte and violent warres
upon him. Romulus on th' other side prepared also, and
went forth to meete him. When they were come so neere
together that they might see one another, they sent defiance
to cache other, and prayed that they two might fight man
to man amiddest their armies, and neither of theirs to sturre
a foote. Bothe of them accepted of it, and Romulus making
his prayer unto lupiter, dyd promise, and made a vowe :
that if he dyd geve him the victorie to overcome, he would
offer up to him the armour of his enemie, which he dyd.
For first he slew Acron in the field, and afterwards gave Acron slaine
battell to his men, and overthrew them also. Lastely he in the field,
tooke his cittie, where he did no hurte nor yet displeasure
to any, saving that he dyd commaunde them to pull downe
their houses, and destroy them, and to goe dwell with him at
Rome : where they should have the selfe same rightes and
priviledges which the first inhabitants did enjoy e. There
was nothing more enlarged the cittie of Rome, then this
manner of pollicie, to joyne all way es mito it those she had
overcome and vancquished. Romulus now to discharge his
vowe, and in suche sorte that his offering might be acceptable
to lupiter, and pleasaunt to his cittizens to beholde : did cut
downe a goodly straight growen young oke, which he lighted
on by good fortune, in the place where his campe did lye.
The same he trimmed and dyd set forth after the manner of
victorie, hanging and tying all about it in fayer order, the
armour and weapons of king Acron. Then he girding his
gowne to him, and putting upon his long bushe of heare, a gar- Romulus
land of lawrell, layed the young oke upon his right shoulder, triumphe.
and he first marched before towards his cittie, and songe a
M 89

ROMULUS

Thebeginning
of triumphe.

lupiter
Feretrius.

Spolia opima.

Three Ro-

maines onely
obteined
spolia opima.

Tarquinius
Priscus the
first that
triumphed in
charet.

Valerius
Publicola.

The citties of
Fidena, Crus-
tumerium,
and of An-
temna rose
all against
Romulus.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

royall songe of victorie, all his armie following him in armes
unto the cittie in order of battell : where his cittizens receyved
him in all passing wise and triumphe. This noble and stately
entrie ever since hath geven them minds in such sorte, and
in statelier wise to make their triumphe. The offering of
this triumphe was dedicated to lupiter surnamed Feretrian :
bicause the Latine worde Ferire, signifieth to hurt and kill :
and the prayer Romulus had made, was, he might hurt and
kill his enemie. Such spoyles are called in Latine, Spolia
opima : therefore sayeth Varro, that opes signifie riches.
Howbeit me thinckes it were more likely to saye, that they
were so named of this worde Opus, which betokeneth a dede,
bicause he must needes be the chief of the armie, that hath
slayne with his owne hands the generall of his enemies, and
that must offer the spoyles called Spolia opima, as you would
saye, his principal spoyles and dedes. This never happened
yet but to three Romaine captaines onely : of the which
Romulus was the first, who slew Acron, king of the Cenin-
enses. Cornelius Cossus was the second, who killed Tolum-
nius, the generall of the Thuscans. Clodius Marcellus was
the thirde, who slewe Britomartus, king of the Gaules, with
his owne hands. And for the two last, Cossus and Marcellus,
they made their entrie into the cittie, carying their triumphes
upon charets triumphant : but Romulus did not so. There-
fore in this poynt Dionysius the historiographer hath erred,
writing that Romulus dyd enter into Rome upon a charret
triumphant. For it was Tarquinius Priscus the sonne of
Demaratus, who first dyd set out triumphes in so stately and
magnificent showe. Other holde opinion it was Valerius
Publicola, who was the first that ever entred upon
triumphant charret. Concerning Romulus, his statues are
yet to be scene in Rome, carying his triumphe a foote.
After this overthrowe and taking of the Ceninenses, the
inhabitants of the citties of Fidena, Crustumerium, and
Antemna, rose alltogether against the Romaines, whiles the
other Sabynes also were a preparing them selves. So they
fought a battell, in which they tooke the overthrowe : and
left their citties to the spoyle of Romulus, their lands to be
geven where he thought good, and them selves to be caried
90

«

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

to Rome. Romulus then dyd geve their lands among his ROMULUS
cittizens, except those lands which did belong to the fathers
of the maydens that they had taken away and ravished.
For he was contented that the fathers of them should kepe
still their lands. By and by the other Sabynes stomaking
thereat, did chuse them a generall called Tatius, and so
went with a puysant army toward the cittie of Rome, where- The Sabynes
unto to approche at that time it was very harde, the castell ^^d by Tatius,
or keepe of their cittie being seated, where at this day the ^pffethedttie
Capitoll standeth, within which there was a great garrison, ^f Rome,
whereof Tarpeius was captaine, and not his daughter Tarpeia,
as some will saye, who set out Romulus as a foole. But
Tarpeia the captaines daughter, for the desire she had to
have all the golde bracelets which they dyd weare about
their armes, solde the forte to the Sabynes, and asked for Tarpeia be-
reward of her treason, all they did weare on their left armes. trayeth the
Tatius promised them unto her : and she opened them a gate fetteth in^the
in the night, by the which she did let all the Sabynes into Sabynes.
the castell. Antigonus then was not alone, who sayed, he Antieronus
loved those which did betraye, and hated them that had and Augustus
betrayed : nor yet Caesar Augustus, who told Rymitalces the Caesars words
Thracian, that he loved treason, but he hated traytors. oftraytours.
And it is a comon affection which we beare to wicked per-
sons, whilest we stand in neede of them : not unlike for all A fit simili-
the world to those which have nede of the gall and poyson t"*i^-
of venemous beasts. For when they finde it, they are glad,
and take it to serve their turne : but after their turne is
served, and they have that they sought, they hate the
crueltie of such beasts. So played Tatius at that time. For
when he was gotten into the castell, he commanded the
Sabynes (for performance of his promise he had made to
Tarpeia) they should not sticke to geve her all they weare
on their left armes, and to doe as he did : who taking from
his owne arme first, the bracelet which he ware, did cast it
to her, and his target after. And so did all the rest in like Note the
sorte, in so much as being borne downe to the ground by the reward of
weight of bracelets and targets, she dyed as pressed to deathe *^^^^'*°-
under her burden. Nevertheles Tarpeius self was atteinted, Tarpeia piess-
and condemned also of treason, by Romulus order, as luba e^i *" deathe.

91

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

ROMULUS sayeth, it is set forth by Sulpitius Galba. They that write
nowe otherwise of Tarpeia, saying she was the daughter
of Tatius, generall of the Sabynes, and was forced by
Romulus to lie with him, and how she was punished in this
sorte by her own father after her said treason committed :
those I saye, amongest whom Antigonus is one, are not to be
credited. And the poet Simylus also dothe dote most, who
sayeth Tarpeia solde the Capitoll not to the Sabynes, but to
the king of Gaules, Avith whom she was in love : as in these
verses dothe appeare.

Tarpeia, that mayde of foolishe mynde,

which nere unto the Capitoll did dwell
(In fervent flames, of beastly love beblynde,

wherewith the king of Gaules did make her swell)
Caused stately Rome surprised for to be

by enemies, as every man maye see.
And so throughe hope of his fidelitie

betrayed her syre, with all his familie.

And a litle after, in speaking of the manner of her deathe,
he sayeth also :

Yet lo : the Gaules, those worthie men of might
threw her not downe, into the waves of Po,

But from their armes, wherewith they wonte to fight
they cast their shields upon her body so,

That she surprest with such an heavy waight,

(Ah woefull mayde) to death was smoothred straight.

This mayden therefore being buried in the same place,
the whole hill was called afterwardes Tarpeius after her
name, which continued untill Tarquinius the King dyd dedi-
cate all the place to lupiter : for then they caryed her bones
into some other place, and so it lost her name. Onles it be
that rocke of the Capitoll, which at this present time they
call Rupes Tarpeia, from the toppe whereof they were wonte
in olde time to throwe doAvne hedlong all wicked offenders.
When the Sabynes now had gotten this holde, Romulus
being exceeding wrathe, sent them a defiaunce, and bad
them battell if they durst. Tatius straight refused not, con-
sidering if by mischaunce they were distressed, they had a
sure refuge to retire unto. The place betweene the two armies

92

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

where the fight should be, was all [round about environned ROMULUS
with litle hilles. So as it was playne, the fight could not be
but sharpe and daungerous, for the discommodiousnes of the The place of
place, were was neither grounde for any to flye, nor yet any the fight be-
space for any longe chase, it was of so small a compasse. twext Romu-
Nowe it fortuned by chaunce, the river of Tyber had over- "^*° ^ "^'
flowen the banckes a fewe dayes before, and there remained
in it a deeper mudde then men would have judged, bicause
the grounde was so plaine, and was even where the great
market place of Rome standeth at this daye. They could
disceme nothing thereof by the eye, bicause the upper parte
of it was crusted, whereby it was the more readye for them
to venter upon, and the worse to get out, for that it dyd
syncke underneathe. So the Sabynes had gone upon it, had
not Curtius daunger sene, which by good fortune stayed Curtius the
them. He was one of the noblest and valliantest men of Sabyne.
the Sabynes, who being mounted upon a courser, went on
a good waye before the armie. This courser entring upon
the crusted mudde, and sincking with all, beganne to plonge
and struggle in the myer : whereat Curtius proved a while
with the spurre to sturre him, and get him out, but in the
ende seeing it would not be, he left his backe, and saved
him selfe. The same very place to this daye is called after
his name, Lacus Curtius. The Sabynes then scaping thus Curtius lake,
this daunger, beganne the battell. The fight dyd growe The Sabynes
very cruell, and endured so a great while, the victorie leaning geve battell
no more to the one side then to the other. There dyed in ^^omums.
a small space a great number of men, amongest whom
Hostilius was one, who as they saye was the husband of Hostilius
Hersilia, and grandfather to Hostilius that was king of slayne.
Romaines after Numa Pompilius. Afterwardes there were
(as we may thincke) many other encounters and battells
betweene them : howbeit they make mention of the last above
all the rest, wherein Romulus had so sore a blowe on liis Romulus hit
head with a stone, that he was almost felled to the grounde, *^^ the head
in so much as he was driven to retire a litle out of the ^^^^^ ^ stoue.
battell. Upon which occasion the Romaines gave backe
also, and drue towardes mount Palatine, being driven out of
the playne by force. Romulus beganne nowe to recover of

93

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

ROMULUS the blowe he had receyved, and so returned to geve a newe
onset, and cryed out all he might to his souldiers to tarye,
and shewe their face againe to their enemie. But for all his
lowde crying, they left no flying still for life, and there was
not one that durst returne againe. Whereupon Romulus
lyfting up his handes straight to heaven, dyd most fervently
praye unto lupiter, that it would please him to staye the
flying of his people, and not suffer the Romaines glorie thus
to fall to their utter destruction, but to repaire it by his
favour againe. He had no soner ended this prayer, but
divers of his men that fled, beganne to be ashamed to flye
before their King, and a sodaine boldnes came upon them,
and their feare therewithal! vanished awaye. The place they
first stayed in was, where as nowe is the temple of lupiter
Stator, which is as much to saye, as lupiter the stayer.
Afterwardes gathering them selves together againe, they
repulsed the Sabynes even to the place they call nowe Regia,
and vmto the temple of the goddesse Vesta : where bothe the
battels being prepared to geve a newe charge, there dyd fall
out before them, a straunge and an uncredible thing to see,
which stayed them they fought not. For of the Sabyne
women whom the Romaines had ravished, some ranne of the
one side, other of the other side of the battels, with lamenta-
tions, cryes, and showtes, stepping betweene their weapons,
and among the slayne bodyes on the grounde, in suclie sorte
that they seemed out of their wittes, and caried as it were
with some spirites. In this manner they went to finde out
their fathers and their husbands, some carying their sucking
babes in their armes, other having their heare lose about
their eyes, and all of them calling, nowe upon the Sabynes,
nowe upon the Romaines, with the gentelest names that
could be devised : whicli dyd melt the hartes of bothe parties
in suche sorte, that they gave backe a litle, and made them
place betweene bothe the battells. Then were the cryes and
lamentations of every one playnely hearde. There was not a
man there but it pittied him, as well to see them in that
pittiefuU case, as to heare the lamentable wordes they spake :
adding to their most humble petitions and requestes that
could be any waye imagined, passing wise persuasions and
94

lupiter
Stator.

A wonderfull
boldnes of
women.

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

reasons to induce them to a peace. For what offence (sayed
they) or what displeasure have we done to you, that we
should deserve suchc an heape of evills, as we have already
suffered, and yet you make us beare ? we were as you knowe
violently (and against all lawe) ravished by those, whose
nowe we remaine. But oure fathers, oure brethren, oure
mothers and friends have left us with them so long, that
processe of time, and the straightest bonds of the worlde,
have tyed us nowe so fast to them, whom mortally before
we hated : that we are constrayned nowe to be slighted
thus, to see them fight, yea and to lament and dye with
them, who before unjustly tooke us from you. For then
you came not to oure rescue when we were virgines un-
touched, nor to recover us from them when they wickedly
assaulted us, poore sowles : but nowe ye come to take the
wives from their husbands, and the mothers from their litle
children. So as the helpe ye thincke to geve us nowe dothe
grieve us more, then the forsaking of us was sorowfull to
us then. Suche is the love they have borne unto us, and
suche is the kyndenes we beare againe to them. Nowe, if
ye dyd fight for any other cause then for us, yet were it
reason ye should let fall your armes for oure sakes (by whom
you are made grandfathers and fathers in lawe, cosins and
brothers in lawe) even from those against whom you now
bend your force. But if all this warre beganne for us, we
hartely beseeche you then that you will receyve us with your
sonnes in lawe, and your sonnes by them, and that you will
restore unto us oure fathers, oure brethern, oure kinsefolkes
and friends, without spoyling us of oure husbands, of our
children, and of our joyes, and thereby make us woefull
captives and prisoners in oure mindes. These requestes and
persuasions by Hersilia, and other the Sabyne women being
heard, bothe the armies stayed, and helde everie bodie his
hand, and straight the two generalles imparled together.
During which parle they brought their husbands and their
children, to their fathers and their brethern. They brought
meate and drincke for them that would eate. They dressed
up the woundes of those that were hurte. They caried them
home with them to their houses. They shewed them howe

95

ROMULUS

The worfles of
Hersilia and
other Sabyne
women unto
both armies.

Romulus and
Tatiusimparle
together.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

ROMULUS

Peace betwene
the Romaines
and Sabyiies.

Quirites why
so called.

Comitium.

The Romaine
legion. 6000.
footemen,600,
horsemen.

The Romaine
tribes.

Honours
geven to
women.

they were mistresses there with their husbands. They made
them see howe greately they were accompted of and esteemed :
yea howe with a wedlocke love and reputation they were
honored. So in the end peace was concluded betwene them,
wherein it was articled, that the Sabyne women which would
remaine with their husbands should tarye still, and be
exempted from all worke or service (as above recited) save
only spinning of wolle. And that the Sabynes and Romaines
should dwell together in the cittie, which should be called
Roma, after Romulus name : and the inhabitants should be
called Quirites, after the name of the cittie of Tatius king of
the Sabynes, and that they should reigne and goveme to-
gether by a comon consent. The place where this peace was
concluded, is called yet to this daye Comitium : bicause that
Coire, in the Latine tongue signiiieth ' to assemble.' So the
cittie being augmented by the one halfe, they dyd choose of
the Sabynes another hundred new Patricians, unto the first
hundred of the Romaines that were chosen before. Then
were the Legions made of sixe thousand footemen, and six
hundred horsemen. After they divided their inhabitants
into three Tribes, wherof those that came of Romulus,
were called Ramnenses after his name : those that came of
Tatius were called Tatienses after his name : and those that
were of the third stocke, were called Lucerenses, as from the
Latine word Lucus, called with us a grove in English,
bicause thither great number of people of all sortes dyd
gather, which afterwards were made citizens of Rome. The
very worde of Tribus (which signifieth bands, wards, or hun-
dreds) dothe witnesse this beginning of Rome from wards, or
hundreds. For hereupon the Romaines call those at this daye,
their Tribunes, which are the chiefe heades of the people.
But every one of these principall wardes had afterwards ten
other particular wards under them, which some thincke were
called after the names of the thirtie Sabyne women that
were ravished : but that semeth false, bicause many of them
cary the names of the places they came from. Howbeit at
that time many things were stablished and ordeined in
honour of women : as to geve them place, the upper hande
in meeting them, the upper hande in streets : to speake no
96

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

fowle or dishonest word before them, no man to unraye him- ROMULUS
selfe, or shew naked before them : that they should not be
called before criminall judges sitting upon homicides and
murderers : that their children should weare about their
necks a kind of a Juell called Bulla, facioned in manner like
these water bubbles that rise upon the water when it begin-
neth to raine : and that their gownes should be garded with
purple. Now the two Kings dyd not straight conferre to-
gether so sone as any occasion of busines was offered them,
but either of them dyd first counsell alone with his hundred
Senatours, and afterwards they dyd all assemble together.
Tatius dwelt in the place where nowe is the temple of luno Tatius and
Moneta : Romulus in the place called at this present, the Romulus
stayers of the fayer bancke, then the descent of mount Pala- ^^ ^*^^^'
tine, as they goe to the showe place or great listes, where
they saye was somtime the holy Cornell tree, whereof they The holy cor-
make so great accompt. Romulus one daye desirous to "ell tree.
prove his strength, threwe (as it is sayed) a darte from
mount Aventine toward mount Palatine. The staffe whereof
was of a Cornell tree : and the Iron of it entred so deepe into
the ground being a lustye fatte soyle, that no man could pul
it out, although many proved it, and did the best they could.
The ground being very good and fit to bring forth trees,
did so nourishe the ende of this staffe, that it tooke roote,
and beganne to spread braunches : so that in time it became
a fayer great Cornell tree, which the successours of Romulus
dyd inclose with a walle, and dyd kepe and worshippe it as a
very holy thing. If by chaunce any went to see it, and
found it looked not freshe and grene, but like a tree withered
and dryed awaye for lacke of moysture : he went awaye
straight as one affrayed, crying to all he met (and they with
him went crying still) in every place, water, water, as it had
bene to have quenched a fyre. Then ranne they thither out
of all quarters with vessels of water, to water and moyste
the tree. In the time of Caius Caesar, who caused the
stayers about it to be repayred : they saye the labourers
raysing the place, and digging about this comell tree, dyd
by negligence hurte the rootes of the same in suche sorte, as
afterwardes it dryed up altogether. Nowe the Sabynes

N 97

ROMULUS

The Sabynes
used the
Romaines
moneths.

Feasts, Mat-
ronalia, Car-
mentalia,
Carmenta,

Lupercalia.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

receyved the moneths after the manner of the Romaines,
whereof we have written sufficiently in the life of Numa.
Romulus againe used the Sabynes sheldes : and both he and
his people chaunged the facion of their armour and weapons
they used. For the Romaines before dyd carye litle sheldes
after the facion of the Argives. As for either of their holy
dayes and sacrifices, they kept them bothe together, and dyd
not take awaye any of them, which either the one or the
other people observed before, but they added thereunto some
other newe. As that which they call Matronalia, which was
instituted in honour of the women, bicause by their meanes
peace was concluded. And that also of Carmentalia, in the
honour of Carmenta, whom some suppose to be the goddesse
of fate or destinie, bicause she hathe rule and power over the
nativities of men, by reason whereof, the mothers call upon
her often, and reverence her very much. Other saye she was
the wife of Evander the Arcadian, who being a prophetesse
inspired by the god Phoebus, gave the oracles in verse,
wherupon she was surnamed Carmenta, bicause that Car-
mina in Latine signifie verses : for it is of certaintie that her
proper name was Nicostrata. Howbeit there are some which
geve another manner of derivation and interpretation of this
worde Carmenta, which is the liklier to be true : as if they
would saye, Carens mente : which signifieth ' wanting wit,' for
the very furie that taketh them when they are inspired with
the propheticall spirite. For in Latine Carerc, betokeneth
' to lacke ' : and Mejis, signifieth ' wit."* As for the feast of
Palilia, we have tolde of it before : but the feast of Luper-
calia, considering the time of celebrating thereof, it seemeth
it is ordeined for a purification. For it is celebrated on the
unfortunate dayes of the moneth of Februarie, which are
called the purging dayes. The dayes in the olde time on
which they did celebrate the same, were called Februata.
But the proper name of the feast, is as much to saye, as the
feast of woulves. Wherefore it seemeth to be a feast of great
antiquitie, and instituted by the Arcadians which came in
with Evander : albeit the name of woulves is as comon to
the females, as the males, and so it might perhappes be
called, by reason of the woulfe that brought up Romulus.

9^

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

For we see those which ronne up and down the cittie that ROMULUS
daye, and they call Luperci, doe beginne their course in the
very place where they saye Romulus was cast out. Howbeit
many things are done, whereof the originall cause were hard
now to be conjectured. For goates about a certaine time of
the yere are killed, then they bring two young boyes, noble
mens sonnes, whose foreheads they touch with the knife be-
bloudied with the bloude of the goates that are sacrificed.
By and by they drye their forheads with wolle dipped in
milke. Then the yong boyes must laughe immediately after
they have dried their forheads. That done they cut the
goates skinnes, and make thongs of them, which they take
in their hands, and ronne with them all about the cittie
starck naked (saving they have a clothe before their
secrets) and so they strike with these thonges all they
mete in their wave. The yonge wives doe never shonne
them at all, but are well contented to be striken with them,
beleeving it helpeth them to be with childe, and also to be
easely delivered. There is another thing yet in this feast,
that these Lupercians which ronne about the cittie, doe also The Luper-
sacrifice a dogge. Concerning this feast, the Poet named <^^^"? ^^^
Butas dothe write somewhat in his elegies, where shewing ^^'^""'^^ »
the occasion of the fond customes and ceremonies of the
Romaines, he dothe saye that Romulus after he had slayne
Amulius, did runne straight with great joye to the very
place where the wolfe gave him and his brother sucke, in
memory of which running, he sayeth this feast of Lupercalia
was celebrated : and that the noble mens younger sonnes doe Why the
runne through the cittie, striking and laying on them which Lupercians
they meete in their way with their goate thongs, in token Tu^^^A- ""^'^
that Remus and Romulus ranne from Alba unto that place, naked,
with their drawen swordes in their hands. And that the
touching of their forehead with a bloudy knife, is in re-
membrance of the daunger they stoode in at that time to
have bene slaine. Last of all, the drying of their foreheads
with wolle dipped in milke, is in memorie of the milke they
sucked of the woulfes. But Caius Acilius writeth, that
Remus and Romulus before Rome was built, did happen to
lose their beasts on a daye, and after they had made certaine

99

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

ROMULUS prayers unto Faunus for the finding of them, they ranne here
and there starcke naked as they went a seeking of them, for
feare they should have bene troubled with overmuch heate
and sweating. And this is the cause he sayeth, why the
Lupercians doe at this daye ronne about naked. And if it
be true they make this sacrifice for a purging, a man might
saye they might offer up a dogge for that purjoose, like as
the Graecians in their sacrifices of purgation doe use to carie
out all their doggs. And in many places they doe observe
this ceremonie, to drive out the doggs, which they call
Periscylacismes. Otherwise, if it be of a thanckfullnes to
the woulfe that gave Romulus sucke, and saved him from
perishing, that the Romaines doe solemnise this feast : it is
not impartinent they sacrifice a dogge, bicause he is enemie
to the woulves. Onles a man would saye it was to punishe
this beast, which troubleth and letteth the Lupercians when
they runne. Some saye also it was Romulus, who first in-
stituted it a religion to kepe holy fire, and that first ordeined
holie virgines, which are called Vestales : other doe ascribe
it to Numa Pompilius. Notwithstanding it is most certaine
otherwise, that Romulus was a very devoute man, and greatly
skilfull in telling of things to come by the flying of birds :
for which cause he did ordinarilie carie the angurs crooked
staffe, called in Latin Lituus. It is a rodde crooked at the
end, wherewith the augurs or soothsayers when they sit
down to behold the flying of birds, doe poynte out and
marke the quarters of the heaven. They carefully kept it
within the pallace : howbeit it was lost in the time of warres
with the Gaules, when the cittie of Rome was taken. After-
wards when these barbarous people were chased and driven
out, it was founde againe (as it is sayed) all whole, within a
great hill or heape of ashes, having no manner of hurte,
where all things els about it had bene consumed and marred
with the fire. He is sayd to have made certaine lawes,
among which there is one that seemeth somewhat harde,
which is : that the man is suffered to put awaye his wife,
and in some case to geve her nothing : and like libertie is
not geven to the wife to put awaye her husband. As if she
maye be proved to have consented to the poysoning of her
100

The Vestall
Nuiiues aud
holy fire in-
stituted by
Romulus.

Lituus.

Romulus
lawes.

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

children, or to have counterfaited her husbands keyes, or to ROMULUS
have committed adulterie. But if he put her awaye for any
other cause, then the one halfe of the goodes is adjuged to
the wife, and the other moytie to the goddesse Ceres : and
he that putteth away his wife after this sorte, is commanded
further, to sacrifice to the goddes of the earth. This also
was notable in Romulus, who having ordeined no payne nor
punishement for parricides (that is for those that kill their Parricides,
parents) called yet all murder parricide, to shewe how
detestable that murder was, and as for parricides, he thought
it unpossible. And it seemed a great while, he had reason No parricide
to thincke so, that such wickednes would never happen in the knowen in
worlde. For in sixe hundred yeres together it was not ^^^^ ^V"^
knowen that any man in Rome committed suche an offence : together
and the first parricide with them was Lucius Ostius, after the ^ . „ .
warres of Hanniball. But enough touching this matter, ^^e first man
Furthermore in the first yere of the reigne of Tatius, some that si ewe his
of his kynsemen and friendes met by chaunce on the waye owne father
certaine ambassadours, comming from the citie of Laurentum ^* Rome,
unto Rome, whom they set upon, and ment to have robbed
them. The ambassadours resisting them, and not willing to Ambassa-
deliver their money, they made no more a doe, but slewe dours slaine
them. This haynous deede being thus committed, Romulus ^•''"'"^"& ***
was of opinion they shoulde be executed openly in the highe
waye for example. But Tatius deferred it still from daye to
daye, and dyd allwayes excuse the matter unto him, which
was the only cause, they fell out one with the other. For in
all things els, they caried them selves as honestly as might be
the one to the other, ruling and governing together, with a
common consent and good accorde. But the parents and
kynsefolkes of those who were murdered, when they sawe
they could have no justice bicause of Tatius : watched him
one daye as he sacrificed with Romulus, in the cittie of
Lavinium, and stabbed him in, without offering Romulus The death of
any violence, but rather praysed him for a good and Tatius in
righteous prince. Romulus caused the bodye of Tatius to Lavimum.
be straight taken up, and buried him very honorably in
mount Aventine, about the place nowe called Armilustrium. Armilus-
Further he never shewed any countenaunce to revenge his trium.

101

The Sabines
obedience to
Romulus.

Romulus
tooke the
cittie of
Fidena.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

ROMULUS death. There are some Historiographers that write, that
those of the cittie of Laurentum being afeard at this
murder, dyd deliver forthwith to Romulus the murderers of
the ambassadours. He notwithstanding dyd let them goe
againe, saying : one murder was requited by another. This
gave some occasion of speache to thincke, he was glad he
was rydde of his companion : yet the Sabynes neither sturred
nor rebelled for all this, but some of them were affrayed of
him for the great love they bare him, other for his power he
was of, and other for the honour they gave him as a god,
continuing still in duetie and obedience towards him. Divers
straungers also had Romulus valiancie in great honour : as
amongest other, those who then were called the auncient
Latines, which sent ambassadours to him to make league and
amitie with him. He devised to take the cittie of Fidena
which was nere neighbour to Rome. Some saye he tooke it
upon a sodaine, having sent before certen horse men to breake
downe the hookes and hingewes with force, which the gates
hang by : and him selfe came after the rest of his armie, and
stale upon them, before the cittie mistrusted any thing.
Other write that the Fidenates first invaded his countrye,
and foraged unto the very suburbes of Rome, where they did
great harme : and howe Romulus layed an ambushe in their
waye as they returned home, and slewe a great number of
them. When he tooke their cittie, he did not rase it, but
made a colonye of it, (as a place to send the overincrease of
Rome unto) whither he sent afterwards two thousand five
hundred Remains to inhabite there : and it was on the
thirtenth daye of Aprill, which the Romaines call the Ides
of the same moneth. Not long after there rose suche a great
plague in Rome, that men died sodainely, and were not
sicke : the earth brought forth no fruite : bruite beasts
delivered no increase of their kynde : there rayned also
droppes of bloude in Rome, as they saye. In so much as
besides the evills men felt in this extremitie, they fell in a
marveilous feare of the wrathe of the goddes. Afterwards
perceiving the like happened to the inhabitants of Laurentum,
then every man judged it was the very vengeance and heavie
hand of the goddes, who plagued and punished these two
102

Plague at
Rome.

It rained
bloude at
Rome.

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

citties for the murder committed upon Tatius, and the ROMULUS
ambassadours that were killed. Whereupon the murderers
of both sides were apprehended, and executed : and these
plagues by and by ceased both in the one and in the other
cittie. Romulus besides, did purifie the cities with certaine
sacrifices that he devised, which they keepe still at this daye,
at the gate called Ferentina. But before the plague ceased,
the Camerines came to assaulte the Romaines, and had over-
comen all the countrie, supposing they should not be able
to withstand them, bicause they had bene so sore troubled
with the plague. Yet notwithstanding, Romulus set up on
them with his army, and wanne the field of them, in which
conflict there were slaine about sixe thousand men. After
the battell done, he tooke their cittie, and conveyed to Rome Camerium
the one half of the inhabitants that remained. After this, taken ot
he sent twise as many Romaines as there were naturall
Camerians left at Camerine, to dwell there among them.
This was done the first daye of August : so great was the
multitude of the inhabitants of Rome that had increased in
sixteene yeres from the first foundation of the cittie. Among
other spoyles he got there, he caried awsy a charret of brasse
with foure horses, which he caused to be set up in the temple
of Vulcan, and his o^vne statue upon it, and victorie cro\vning
him with a garland triumphant. His power being growen
thus greate, his weake neighbours did submit themselves
unto him, being contented to live in peace by him. His
stronger neighbours were affrayed of him, and envied much
his greatnes, and dyd take it no good policie to suffer him
thus to rise in the face of the world, and thought it meete
spedilie to dawnte his glorie, and clippe his winges. The
first of the Thuscans that bent their power against him,
were the Veians, who had a great countrie, and dwelled in a
stronge and miglitie cittie. To picke a quarrell to him,
they sent to have redelivered to them the cittie of Fidena,
which they sayed belonged unto them. This was thought
not only unreasonable, but a thing worthy laughing at, con-
sidering that all tlie while the Fidenates were in warre, and
daunger, the Thuscans never came to their ayde, but had
suffered them to be slayne, and then came to demaunde their

103

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

ROMULUS lands and tenements, when other had possession of them.
Therefore Romulus having geven them an aunswer full of
mockerie, and derision, they divided their power into two
armies, and sent the one against them of Fidena, and with
the other they marched towards Rome. That which went
against the cittie of Fidena, prevayled, and killed there two
thousand Romaines : the other was overthrowen and dis-
comfited by Romulus, in which there dyed eight thousand
Veians. Afterwards, they met againe somewhat neere the
cittie of the Fidenates, where they fought a battell : and all
dyd confesse, the chiefest exployte was done by Romulus
The incredible owne hands that daye, who shewed all the skill and valliantnes
valiantnes of ^j^^t was to be looked for in a worthy captaine. It seemed
that daye, he farre exceeded the common sorte of men, in
strength of bodye and feates of armes. Nevertheles that
which some saye, is hardely to be credited : and to be plaine,
is out of all compasse of beliefe and possibilitie. For they
write, there were fourteene thousand men slayne at that
battell, and that more then halfe of them were slayne by
Romulus own hands : and the rather, for that every man
judgeth it a vaine bragge and ostentation which the Mes-
senians reporte of Aristomenes, who offered in sacrifice to
the goddes three hundred beastes of victorie, as for so many
Lacedaemonians him self had slayne in the battell. Their
armie being thus broken, Romulus suffered them to flye who
by swiftnes could save them selves, and marched with all his
power in good arraye towards their cittie. The cittizens
then considering their late great losse and overthrowe, would
not hazard the daunger of withstanding him, but went out
all together, and made their humble petition and sute for
Romulus peace. All was graunted them for a hundred yeres, save

maketli peace thev should forgoe their territorie called Septemagium, that
with the ^^g ^^Q seventh parte of their countrye : and yeld to the

Romaines all their salt houses by the rivers side, and deliver
fiftie of their chiefest cittizens for their pledges. Romulus
made his entrie and triumphe into Rome for them, the daye
of the Ides of October, which is the fiftenth daye of the
same moneth, leading in his triumphe many prisoners taken
in those warres : and among other, the generall of the Veians,
104

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

a very auncient man who fondly behaved him selfe in his ROMULUS
charge, and shewed by his doings, that his experience was
farre shorte for his yeres in the warres. And from thence it
commeth, when they offer to the goddes to geve thanckes
for this victorie, that even at this daye, they bring to the
capitoU throughe the market place an old man apparelled in
a purple robe, and with a Juell called Bulla about his necke,
which the gentlemens young children weare about their
neckes : and a heraulde goeth harde by him, crying, Who
buyeth who, the Sardianians ? bicause they holde opnion the
Thuscans are come of the Sardianians, and the very cittie of
Veies standeth in the countrie of Thuscane. This was the
laste warre that Romulus had offered him : after which he
could not beware of that which is wonte to happen almost
to all those, who by sodaine prosperitie, and fortunes speciall
favour, are raised to highe and great estate. For trusting
to prosperitie and good successe of his actes, he beganne to Prosperitie,
growe more straunge and stately, and to carie a sowerer increase of
countenaunce then he was wonte to doe before : leaving to P^'Y^e and
be after his olde manner, a curteous and gracious prince, and
gave him selfe in facions to be somwhat like a tyrant, both
for his apparell, and stately porte and majestic that he caried.
For he ware ever a coate of purple in graine, and upon that,
a longe robe of purple culler : and gave audience, sitting in
a wyde chayer of estate, having ever about him young men
called Celeres, as we would saye, flights for their swiftnes and Celeres, Ro-
speede in executing of his commaundements. Other there mulus garde,
were that went before him, who caried as it were tipstaves in
their hands, to make the people geve roome, and had leather
thongs about their middle to binde fast streight, all the
prince should commaunde. Nowe in olde time the Latines
sayed, Ligare was * to binde "" : but at this present they saye
Allig-are, from whence it commeth that the ushers and ser-
geants are called Lictores. Howbeit me thincks it were Lictores,
more likely to saye, they had put to a c. and that before "herefore
they were called Litores, without a c. For they be the very ^'^ called,
same which the Grecians call Litiirgvs, and be in Englishe,
ministers or officers : and at this daye, Leitos, or Leos^ in the
Greeke tongue signifieth the people. Romulus now after
O 105

ROMULUS

Romulus cori'
verteth the
kingdome of
Alba to a
comon weale.

Romulus

vanished
awaye no man
knew howe.

The 17. daye
of luly an
unfortunate
daye to the
Romaines.

The death of
Scipio Afri-
canus.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

his grandfather Numitor was dead at the cittie of Alba, and
that the Realme by inheritance fell to him : to winne the
favour of the people there, turned the Kingdome to a Comon
• weale, and every yere dyd chuse a newe magistrate to minister
justice to the Sabynes. This president taught the noble
men of Rome to seeke and desire to have a free estate, where
no subject should be at the commaundement of a King alone,
and where every man should commaund and obey as should
be his course. Those which were called Patricians in Rome,
dyd medle with nothing, but had onely an honorable name
and robe, and were called to counsaill rather for a facion,
then to have their advise or counsaile. For when they were
assembled together, they dyd onely heare the Kings pleasure
and commaundement, but they might not speake one word,
and so departed : having no other preheminence over the
Common wealthe, saving they were the first that dyd knowe
what was done. All other things thereby dyd greve them
lesse. But when of his owne mere authoritie, and as it were
of him self, he would as pleased him, bestowe the conquered
lands of his enemies to his souldiers, and restore againe to
the Veians their hostages as he dyd : therein plainely appeared,
how great injurie he dyd to the Senate. Whereupon the
Senatours were suspected afterwards that they killed him,
when with in fewe dayes after it was sayed, he vanished
awaye so straungely, that no man ever knewe what became
of him. This was on the seventh daye of the moneth nowe
called luly, which then was named Qumtilis, leaving no
manner of certaintie els of his deatlie that is knowen, save
only of the daye and the time when he vanished, as we have
sayed before. For on that daye, the Romaines doe at this
present many things, in remembrance of the misfortune
which happened to them then. It is no marvell, the cer-
taintie of his deathe was not knowen : seeing Scipio Africanus
was founde after supper dead in his house, and no man could
tell, nor yet dyd know how he dved. For some saye that
he fainted, and dyed sodainely being of weake complexion.
Other saye he poysoned him self: other thincke his enemies
dyd get secretly in the night into his house, and smoothred
him in his bed. Yet they founde his body laved on the
lOG * '

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

ground, that every body might at leysure consider, if they ROMULUS
could finde or conjecture the manner of his death. Howbeit
Romulus vanished away sodainely, there was neither scene
pece of his garments, nor yet was there found any parte of
his body. Therfore some have thought that the whole
Senatours fell upon him together in the temple of Vulcan, Divers
and how after they had cut him in peces, every one caried opinions of
awaye a pece of him, folded close in the skyrte of his robe. Romulus
Other thincke also, this vanishing away was not in the
temple of Vulcan, nor in the presence of the Senatours only :
but they saye that Romulus was at that time without the
cittie, neere the place called the goates marshe, where he The g:oate
made an oration to the people, and that sodainely the marshe.
weather chaunged, and overcast so terribly, as it is not to
be tolde nor credited. For first, the sunne was darckned as
if it had bene very night : this darcknes was not in a calme
or still, but there fell horrible thunders, boysterous windes,
and flashing lightnings on every side, which made the people
ronne awaye, and scatter here and there, but the Senatours
kept still close together. Afterwardes when the lightning
was past and gone, the daye cleared up, and the element
waxed fayer as before. Then the people gathered together
againe, and sought for the King : asking what was become
of him. But the noble men would not suffer them to enquire
any further after him, but counselled them to honour and
reverence him as one taken up into heaven : and that thence-
forth in steade of a good King, he would be unto them a
mercifull and gratious god. The meaner sorte of people
(for the most parte of them) tooke it well, and were very
glad to heare thereof: and went their waye worshipping-
Romulus in their hartes, with good hope they should prosper
by him. Howbeit some seeking out the trothe more egerly
did comber sore, and troubled the Patricians : accusing them,
that they abused the common people with vaine and fonde
persuasions, whilest them selves in the meane time had
murdered the King with their owne hands. While things
were thus in hurly burly, some saye there was one lulius
Proculus, the noblest of all the Patricians, being esteemed
for a marvelous honest man, and knowen to have bene very

107

ROMULUS

lulius Pro-
culus met
with Romulus
after his
vanishing.

Romulus
oracle unto
Proculus.

Romulus call-
ed Quirinus,
and honored
as a god.

Aristeas a
Proconnesian
taken out of
mens sight
after he was
dead.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

familier with Romulus, and came with him from the cittie
of Alba : that stepped forth before all the people, and
affirmed (by the greatest and holyest othes a man might
sweare) that he had met Romulus on the waye, farre greater
and fayerer, then he had seene him ever before, and armed
all in white armour, shyning bright like lire : whereat being
affrayed in that sorte to see him, he asked him yet : O King,
why hast thou thus left and forsaken us, that are so falsely
accused and charged to our utter discredit and shame, by
thy vanishing. To whom Romulus gave this aunswer. Pro-
culus, it hathe pleased the goddes from whom I came, that
I should remaine amongest men so long as I dyd : and nowe
having built a cittie, which in glorie and greatnes of empire
shalbe the chiefest of the worlde, that I should returne againe
to dwell with them, as before, in heaven. Therefore be of
good comforte, and tell the Romaines, that they exercising
prowesse and temperancie, shalbe the mightiest and greatest
people of the worlde. As for me, tell them I will hence-
forth be their god, protectour, and patron, and they shall
call me Quirinus. These wordes seemed credible to the
Romaines, aswell for the honesty of the man that spake
them, as for the solemne othes he made before them all.
Yet I wote not how, some celestiall motion, or divine inspira-
tion helped it much : for no man sayed a word against it.
And so all suspition and accusation layed aside, every man
began to call upon Quirinus, to praye unto him, and to wor-
shippe him. Truely this tale is much like the tales that the
Grecians tell of Aristeas the proconnesian, and of Cleomedes
the Astypalaeian. For they saye, that Aristeas dyed in a
fullers worke house, and his friends comming to carie awaye
his bodye, it fell out they could not tell what became of it :
and at that instant there were some which came out of the
fields, and affirmed they met and spake with him, and how
he kept his waye towards the cittie of Crotona. It is sayed
also that Cleomedes was more then a man naturally strong
and great, and therewithall madde, and furious hastie. For
after many desperate partes he had played, he came at the
last on a daye into a schoole house full of litle children, the
roofe wherof was borne with one piller, which he dyd hit
108

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

with so terrible a blowe of his fiste, that he brake it in the ROMULUS
middest, so as the whole roofe fell and dashed the poore Cleomedes
children in peces. The people ranne straight after him to Astypalensis
take him. But he threwe him selfe forthwith into a chest, ^'^"i^hed
and pulled the 1yd upon him. He helde it so fast downe, py^. of mens
that many striving together all they could to open it, they sights, being
were not able once to styrre it. Whereupon they brake fast locked iu
the chest all in peces, but they found the man neither quicke * chest,
nor dead. Whereat they were marvellously amazed, and
sent to Apollo Pythias, where the prophetesse aunswered
them in this verse :

Cleomedes the last of the demy goddes.

The reporte goeth also that Alcmenes corse dyd vanishe Alcmeues
awaye, as they caried it to buriall, and howe in steade bodyvanishec
thereof they founde a stone layed in the beere. To con- ^gg^e^**^^
elude, men tell many other suche wonders, that are farre
from any apparance of trothe : only bicause they would
make men to be as goddes, and equall with them in power.
It is true, that as to reprove and denie divine power, it were
a lewde and wicked parte : even so to compare earthe and
heaven together, it were a mere foUie. Therefore we must
let suche fables goe, being most certaine that as Pindarus
sayeth it is true.

Eche living corps, must yelde at last to deathe,

and every life must leese his vitall breathe :
The soule of man, that onely lives on hie, The soul

and is an image of eternitie. etemall.

For from heaven it came, and thither againe it dothe
retunie, not with the bodye, but then soonest, when the
sowle is furthest of and separated from the bodye, and that
she is kept holy, and is no more defiled with the flesh. It is
that the philosopher Heraclitus ment, when he sayed : The
drye light, is the best soule which flyeth out of the bodye, Heraclitus
as lightning dothe out of the clowde : but that which is saying of the
joyned with the bodye being full of corporall passions, is a soule.
grosse va,pour, darke and massie, and cannot flame, ryse or
shoote out like lightning. We must not beleeve therefore,
that the bodyes of noble and vertuous men, doe goe up

109

Why Romu-
lus was called
Quiriuus.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

ROMULUS together with their soules into heaven, against the order of
nature. But this we are certainely to beleeve, that by the
vertues of their soules (according to divine nature and justice)
they doe of men become saincts, and of saincts halfe goddes,
and of halfe goddes, entier and perfect goddes : after that
they are perfectly (as it were by sacrifices of purgation)
made cleane and pure, being delivered from all paine and
mortalitie, and not by any civill ordinance, but in trothe and
reason, they receave a most happie and glorious ende. Now
touching Romulus surname, which afterwards was called
Quirinus : some saye that it signifieth as much as warlike :
other thinke he was so called bicause the Romaines them selves
were called Quirites. Other ^^Tite, that men in olde time
did call the poynte of a speare, on the darte it self, Quiris :
by reason whereof the image of luno surnamed Quiritides,
was set up with an iron speare, and the speare which was
consecrated in the Kings pallace, was called Mars. Further-
more it is an use amongest men, to honour them with a
speare or darte, which have shewed them selves valiant in
the warres : and that for this cause Romulus was surnamed
Quirinus, as who would saye, god of the speares and Avarres.
There was since buylt a temple unto him, in the hill called
Quirinus, and so named of him. The daye whereon he
vanished, is called the flying of the people, or otherwise the
Nones of the goates. For on that daye, they goe out of the
cittie to doe sacrifice in the place called the Fenne, or the
goates marshe : and the Romaines call a goate, Capra. As
they goe thus together, they call with lowde showtes and
cryes upon divers Romaines names, as Marcus, Cneus, and
Gains, in token of the flying that was then : and that they
called one another backe againe, as they ranne awaye in
great feare and disorder. Howbeit other saye, that it is not
done to shewe the ronning awaye, but to shewe their spede
and diligence, and referre it to the storie. Nowe after the
Gaules that had taken Rome were expulsed by Camillus,
the cittie was so weakned, that they could scante recover
their force and strength againe : wherfore many of the
Thewarre of Latines jo3nning together, went with a great mightie armie,
the Latines. under the conducte of Livius Posthumius, to warre against
110

The hill
Quirinus.

NoncB Capra-
tincB.

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

the Romaines. This Posthumius brought his campe as neere ROMULUS
the cittie of Rome as he could, and sent to the Romaines by Livius
a trumpet to let them understand, how the Latines were Posthumius
desirous by newe manages, to restore their olde auncient S^^^^^^-
amitie and kinred that was neere hand decayed betweene
them : and therefore if the Romaines would send them a
convenient number of their daughters and young widowes
to marie with them, they should have peace, as they had
before time with the Sabynes, upon the like occasion. The
Romaines hereat were sore troubled, thincking that to deliver
their women in such sorte was no better, then to yelde and
submit them selves to their enemies. But as they were thus
perplexed, a wayting mayde called Philotis (or as other call Philotis a
her, Tutola) gave them counsell to doe neither the one nor wayting
the other, but to use a pollicy with them, by meanes whereof "^^X"^^ ^^
they should scape the daunger of the warres, and should also
not be tyed nor bounde by any pledges. The devise was,
they should send to the Latines her selfe, and a certaine
number of their fayrest bonde maydes, trimmed up like
gentlewomen and the best cittizens daughters, and that in
the night she would lifte them up a burning torche in the
ayer, at which signe they should come armed, and set upon
their enemies as they laye a sleepe. This was brought to
passe : and the Latines thought verely they had bene the
Romaines daughters. Philotis fay led not in the night to
lyft up her signe, and to shewe them a burning torche in the
toppe of a wilde figge tree : and dyd hange certaine cover-
lets and clothes behinde it, that the enemies might not see
the light, and the Romaines contrariwise might decerne it
the better. Thereupon so sone as the Romaines sawe it,
they ranne with all spede, calling one another by their
names, and issued out of the gates of the cittie with great
haste : and so tooke their enemies upon a sodaine, and slewe
them. In memorie of which victorie, they doe yet solemnise
the feaste called the Nones of the goates, bicause of the
wilde figge tree called in Latine Caprificus. And they doe
feast the v/omen without the cittie, under shadowes made of
the boughe of figge trees. The wayting maydes, they ronne
up and downe, and plave here and there together. After-
Ill

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

ROMULUS wards they seeme to fight, and throwe stones one at another,
as then they dyd when they holpe the Romaines in their
fight. But fewe writers doe avovve this tale, bicause it is on
the daye time that they call so eche other by their names,
and that they goe to the place which they call the goates
marshe, as unto a sacrifice. It seemeth this agreeth better
with the first historic when they called one another by their
names in the night, going against the Latines : onles per-
adventure these two thinges after many yeres happened upon
Romulus age one daye. Furthermore, they saye Romulus was taken
and raigne. out of the world, when he was foure and fiftie yeres

of age, and had raigned eight and thirtie
yeres by accompt.

THE COMPARISON OF
THESEUS WITH ROMULUS

By what
meanes men
are provoked
to great enter- |
prises. 5

kinj

meanes

dome) dyd
to aspire

HUS have we declared all things of Theseus
and Romulus worthy memorie. But to
compare the one with the other, it
appeareth first that Theseus of his
owne voluntarie will, without compul-
sion of any (when he might with safety
have reigned in the cittie of Trcezen, and
succeeded his grandfather in no small
desire of him selfe, and rather sought
to ereat things : and that Romulus

on

Plato in
Phcedone.

the other side, to deliver him self from bondage and ser-
vitude that laye sore upon him, and to escape the threatned
punishment which still dyd hange over his head*, was cer-
tainely compelled (as Plato sayeth) to shewe him selfe
bardie for feare : who seeing howe extremely he was like to
be handled, was of very force constrained to seeke adventure,
and hazarde the enterprise of atteining highe and great
things. Moreover the chiefest acte that ever he dyd was,
when he slewe one onelv tyranne of the cittie of Alba called
112

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

Amulius : where Theseus in his jorney only, as he travelled, THESEU
gave his minde to greater enterprises, and slewe Sciron, AND
Sinnis, Procrustes, and Corynetes. And by ridding them I^^^^^LUk
out of the worlde, he delivered Grece of all those cruell
tyrannes, before any of those knewe him whom he had
delivered from them. Furthermore, he might have gone
to Athens by sea, and never needed to have travelled, or
put him selfe in daunger with these robbers, considering he
never receyved hurte by any of them : where as Romulus
could not be in safetie whilest Amulius lived. Hereupon
it maye be alledged,that Theseus unprovoked by any private
wronge or hurte receyved, dyd set upon these detestable
theves and robbers : Remus and Romulus contrariwise, so
longe as the tyranne dyd them no harme, dyd suft'er him to
oppresse and wronge all other. And if they alledge these
were noble dedes, and worthy memorie : that Romulus was
hurte fighting against the Sabynes, and that he slewe king
Acron with his owne handes, and that he had overcome and
subdued many of his enemies. Then for Theseus on thother
side may be objected, the battell of the Centauri, the warres
of the Amazones, the tribute due to the king of Creta : and
howe he ventered to goe him selfe thither with the other
young boyes and wenches of Athens, as willingly offering
him selfe to be devowred by a cruell beaste, or els to be
slayne and sacrificed upon the tumbe of Androgens, or to
become bondslave and tyed in captivitie to the vile service
of cruell men and enemies, if by his corage and manhodde
he could not deliver him self. This was such an acte of
magnanimitie, justice and glorie, and briefly of so great
vertue, that it is unpossible truely to be set out. Surely
me thinckes the philosophers dyd not ill define love, when Love the
they sayd she was a servitour of the goddes, to save younge minister of
folkes, "whom they thought meete to be preserved."^ For, *^® goddes.
the love of Ariadne was in mine opinion the worke of some
god, and a meane purposely prepared for Theseus safety.
Therefore the woman is not to be reproached nor blamed
for the love she bare Theseus, but rather it is muche to be
wondred at, that every man and woman in like wise dyd not
love him. And if of her selfe she fell in love with him, I
F 113

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

THESEUS saye (and not without cause) she afterwards deserved to be
-'^^^ beloved of a god, as one that of her owne nature loved

ROMULUS valiantnes and honour, and entertained men of singuler
value. But both Theseus and Romulus being naturally
geven to rule and raigne, neither the one nor the other
kept the true forme of a King, but bothe of them dyd
degenerate alike : the one chaunging him self into a popular
man, the other to a very tyranne. So that by sundrie
humours, they both fell into one mischief and errour. For

The office of a prince above all things must keepe his estate : which is no

a prince. lesse preserved by doing nothing uncomely, as by doing all

things honorably. But he that is more severe or remisse
then he should be, remaineth now no more a King or a prince,
but becommeth a people pleaser, or a cruell tyrante : and so
causeth his subjects to despise or hate him. Yet me
thinckes the one is an errour of to muche pittie and base-
nes : and the other of to muche pryde and crueltie. But if
we maye not charge fortune with all mischaunces happening
unto men, but that we ought to consider in them the
diversities of manners and passions, seeing anger is un-
reasonable, and wrathe rashe and passionate : then can we
not clere the one, nor excuse the other of extreme rage and
passion, in the facte committed by the one against his
brother, and by the other against his naturall sonne. How-
beit the occasion and beginning of anger doth muche excuse
Theseus, who moved with the greatest cause that might be,
was put into suche choller and passion. But if Romulus
variaunce with his brother had proceeded of any matter of
counsell, or cause of the common weales : there is none so
simple to thincke, that his wisdome would so sodainely have
set upon him. Where as Theseus in contrarie manner killed
his Sonne, provoked by those passions that fewe men can
avoyde : to wit, love, jelousie, and false reporte of his wife.
Moreover Romulus anger went to the effect, whereof the
issue fell out very lamentable : Theseus anger stretched no
further, then to roughe wordes, and olde folkes curses in
their heate. For it seemeth, cursed fortune, and nought
els, was the cause of his sonnes only mishappe, as forespoken
and wished for somewhat bv his father. These be the
114

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

speciall things maye be alledged for Theseus. But for THESEUJ
Romulus this was a noble thing in him. First his beginning AND
being very lowe and meane, and his brother and he taken for RO-^IULUS
bonde men, and the children of hoggeheards, before they Wherein
were them selves all free, they set at libertie in manner all f^omulus was
the Latines, winning at one instant many titles of glorie ferred before
and honour : as distroyers of their enemies, defenders of Theseus,
their parents. Kings of nations, founders of newe citties,
and no overthrowers of the olde, where as Theseus of many
habitations and houses made onely one, and dyd overthrowe
and plucke downe divers states, bearing the names of auncient
Kings, princes, and halfe goddes of Attica. All these also
dyd Romulus afterwards, and compelled his enemies whom
he had overcome, to distroye their owne houses, and to come
and dwell with their conquerours. And in the beginning,
he never chaunged nor increased any cittie that was buylt
before, but buylt him selfe a newe cittie out of the grounde,
getting all together, land, countrie, kingdome, kinred and
manages, without losing or killing any man : and to the
contrarie, rather he dyd good to many poore vacabonds,
who had neither countrie, lands, nor houses, and desired
nothing els but to make a people amongest them, and to
become cittizens of some cittie. Also Romulus bent not
him selfe to follow theeves and robbers, but subdued by force
of armes many mightie and puissant people : he tooke citties,
and triumphed over Kings and Princes which he had van-
quished in battell. And touching the murder of Remus, it
is not certainely knowen of whose hands he dyed. The
most parte of authors doe charge other with the death of
him. But it is certaine that Romulus delivered his mother Romulus love
from apparant death, and restored his grandfather to the to his kynne.
royall throne of .Eneas, wlio before was deposed and brought
from a King to servill obedience, without any regarde of
honour or dignitie : to whom he dyd many moe great
pleasures and services. Besides he never offended him
willingly, no not so muche as ignorantly. Contrarylie I
thincke of Theseus, who fayling by negligence to put out his Theseus
white sayle at his returne, cannot be cleared of parricide, detected for
howe eloquent an oration soever could be made for his o""^'^*"^*

115

THESEUS

AND
ROMULUS

Theseus de-
tected for his
ravish ements
of women.

Romulus
ravishement
of women
excused.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

excuse : yea though it were before the most favorable
judges that could be. Wherefore an Athenian very well
perceyving that it was an harde thing to excuse and
defend so fowle a faulte, dothe fayne that the good olde
man ^Egeus having newes brought him that his sonnes
shippe was at hand, dyd ronne in so great haste to his
castell, to see his sonne arrive a farre of, that as he ranne,
his foote hit against some thing, and overthrewe him : as
though he had none of his people about him, or that never
a man seeing him ronne so hastely to the sea side, dyd make
haste to attende and wayte upon him. Furthermore, Theseus
faults touching women and ravishements, of the twaine, had
the lesse shadowe and culler of honestie. Bicause Theseus
dyd attempt it very often : for he stale awaye Ariadne,
Antiope, and Anaxo the Troezenian. Againe being stepped
in yeres, and at later age, and past mariage : he stale awaye
Helen in her minoritie, being nothing neere to consent to
marye. Then his taking of the daughters of the Trce-
zenians, of the Lacedaemonians, and the Amazones (neither
contracted to him, nor comparable to the birthe and linadge
of his owne countrie which were at Athens, and descended
of the noble race and progenie of Erichtheus, and of
Cecrops) dyd geve men occasion to suspect that his
womannishenes was rather to satisfie lust, then of any
great love. Romulus nowe in a contrarie manner, when
his people had taken eight hundred, or thereabouts, of the
Sabyne women to ravishe them : kept but onely one for him
selfe that was called Hersilia, as they saye, and delivered the
reste to his best and most honest cittizens. Afterwardes by
the honour, love, and good entertainment that he caused
them to have and receyve of their husbands, he chaunged
this violent force of ravishement, into a most perfect bonde
and league of amitie : which dyd so knyt and joyne in one
these two nations, that it was the beginning of the great
mutuall love which grewe afterwards betwext those two
people, and consequently of the joyning of their powers
together. Furthermore, time hath geven a good testimonie
of the love, reverence, constancie, kyndenes, and all matri-
moniall offices that he established by that meanes, betwext
116

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

man and wife. For in two hundred and thirtie yeres after- THESEUS
wards, there was never man that durst forsake or put AND
awaye his wife, nor the wife her husband. And as among , <-> ij li o
the Grecians, the best learned men, and most curious ^ ^ , lyo^e
observers of antiquities doe knowe his name, that was the f^^ 230 yeres
first murderer of his father or mother : even so all the space. Val.
Romaines knewe what he was, which first durst put away his Max. sayeth
wife. It was one called Spurius Carvilius, bicause his wife '^^"•
was barren and had no children. The effects also doe agree The first wife
with the testimonie of the time. For the Kealme was put awaye iu
common unto Kings of both nations, and through the ^^"'"p-
alliance of these manages that beganne first of ravishe-
ments, both nations lived peaciblie, and in equalitie, under
one civill policie, and well governed common weale. The
Athenians contrariewise, by Theseus mariages, dyd get Theseus ma-
neither love nor kynred of any one persone, but rather they riages cause
procured warres, enmities, and the slaughter of their cittizens, of warres ant
with the losse in the ende of the cittie of Aphidnes : and yet
very hardely, and by the mercie of their enemies (whom they
honored as godds) they escaped for him, the daunger which
the Troians suffered afterwards, for the self acte done by
Alexander Paris. So it fell out at the last, that his mother
Avas not only in daunger, but even feelingly suffered like
miserie and captivitie, which Hecuba dyd afterwards, when
she was forsaken of her sonne : onles peradventure those
things that they write of the imprisonment and captivitie
of ^thra, be founde false, and but fables, as for the fame
and memorie of Theseus were behovefull, that both it, and
many other things also, were of no more trothe nor likely- Romulus
hood. That which they write of Romulus divinements, moie accept-
maketh great difference betwene him and Theseus. For ^^LV^th^*^
Romulus in his birthe was preserved by the marvelous Theseus,
favour of the goddes : Tlieseus to the contrarie, was be-
gotten against the goddes will, as appeared plainely
by the aunswer of the oracle to ^geus, that he
should not medle with any woman in straunge
and foraine countrie.

THE ENDE OF ROMULUS LIFE

117

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

THE LIFE OF LYCURGUS

Xenophon in
lib. de Lace-
deemon. Rep.

Of the Hera-
clides, Pau-
saniasj Dio-
dorus, and
Cleme. Strom.
lib. I.

MAN can not speake any thing at all of
Lycurgus, who made the lawes of the
Lacedaemonians, but he shall finde great
contrarietie of him amongest the his-
toriographers. For, of his parentage
and travaill out of his countrie, of his
deathe and making of lawes, of his forme
and government, and order of executing
the same, they have written diversely. And yet above all
things, concerning him, they agree worst about the time he
lived in. For some of "tfem (nud AmEoEIels of that~~
number) will needes have him to have bene in the time of
Iphytus, and that he dyd helpe him to stablish the ordi-
naunce that all warres should cease during the feast of the
games olympicall : for a testimonie whereof, they alledge the
copper coyte which was used to be throwen in those games,
and had founde graven upon it, the name of Lycurgus.
Other compting the dayes and time of the succession of the
kings of Lacedaemon (as Eratosthenes, and Apollodorus)
saye he was many yeres before the first Olympiades. Timaeus
also thincketh there were two of this name, and in divers
times : howbeit the one having more estimation then the
other, men gave this Lycurgus the glorie of both their
doings. Some saye the eldest of the twaine, was not longe
after Homer : and some write they sawe him, Xenophon
sheweth us plainely he was of great antiquitie : saying he
was in the time of the Heraclides, who were neerest of
bloude by descent to Hercules. For it is likely Xenophon
ment not those Heraclides, which descended from Hercules
self : for the last kings of Sparta were of Hercules progenie,
aswell as the first. Therefore he meaneth those Heraclides,
which doubtles were the first and nearest before Hercules
time. Nevertheles though the historiographers have written
diversely of him, yet we will not leave to collect that which
118

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

we finde written of him in auncient histories, and is least to LYCURGUS
be denied, and by best testimonies most to be prooved. And
first of all, the poet Simonides sayeth, his father was called
Prytanis and not Eunomus ; and the most parte doe write
the pettigree otherwise, as well of Lycurgus self, as of Euno-
mus. For they saye, that Patrocles the sonne of Aristo- Lycurisrus
demus begate Sous, and Sous begate Eurytion, and Eurytion kinred.
begate Prytanis, and Prytanis begat Eunomus, and Euno-
mus begat Polydectes of his first wife, and Lycurgus of the
second wife, called Dianassa: yet Euthychidas an other
writer, maketh Lycurgus the sixte of descent in the right
line from Polydectes, and the eleventh after Hercules. But
of all his auncesters, the noblest was Sous, in whose time the
cittie of Sparta subdued the Ilotes, and made them slaves,
and dyd enlarge and increase their dominion, with the lands
and possessions they had got by conquest of the Arcadians.
And it is sayed that Sous him self being on a time straightly
besieged by the Clitorians, in a hard drye grounde, where no
water could be founde : offered them thereupon to restore all
their lands againe that he had gotten from them, if he and
all his companie dyd drincke of a fountaine that was there A subtill
not farre of. The Clitorians did graunte unto it, and peace promise,
also was swome betweene them. Then he called all his
souldiers before him, and tolde them if there were any one
amongest them that would refrayne from drincking, he
would resigne his kingdome to him : howbeit there was not
one in all his companie that could (or would) forbeare to
drincke, they were so sore a thirst. So they all drancke
hartely except him self, who being the last that came dowTie,
dyd no more but a litle moyste his raowthe without, and
so refreshed him self, the enemies selves standing by, and
drancke not a droppe. By reason whereof, he refused after-
wards to restore their lands he had promised, alledging they
had not all droncke. But that notwithstanding, he was
greately esteemed for his actes, and yet his house was not
named after his owne name : but after his sonnes name
Eurytion, they of his house were called Eurytionides. The
reason was, bicause his sonne Eurytion to please the people,
dyd first let fall and geve over, the sole and absolute power

119

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

LYCURGUS of a King. Whereupon there followed afterwardes mar-
veilous disorder and dissolution, which continued a great
time in the cittie of Sparta, For the people finding them
selves at libertie, became very bolde and disobedient : and
some of the Kinges that succeeded, were hated even to
deathe, bicause they woulde perforce use their auncient
authoritie over the people. Other, either to winne the
love and goodwilles of the people, or bicause they sawe they
were not stronge enough to rule them, dyd geve them selves
to dissemble. And this dyd so muche increase the peoples
lose and rebellious mindes, that Lycurgus owne father being
Kinge, was slayne among them. For one daye, as he was
parting a fraye betweene two that were fighting, he had
suche a wounde with a kytchin knyfe, that he dyed : and
left his Realme to his eldest sonne Polydectes, who dyed also
sone after, and without heyre of his bodye as was supposed.
In so muche as every man thought Lycurgus should be
Kinge : and so he tooke it upon him, untill it was under-
stoode that his brothers wife was younge with childe.
Which thing so soone as he perceyved, he published openly,
that the Realme belonged to the childe that should be
borne, if it were a sonne. After this he governed the
Realme, but as the Kings lieutenante and regent. The
Lacedfemonians call the regents of their Kinges that are
left within age, Prodicos. Lycurgus brothers widowe dyd
send, and let him secretly understande, that if he would
von^^Khiffs hi promise to marye her when he should be King, that she
ininoritie. would come before her time, and either miscarye, or destroye
that she went with, Lycurgus detestably abhorring this
brutishe and savage unnaturallnes of the woman, dyd not
reject her offer made him, but seemed rather to be very
glad, then to dislike of it. Nevertheles he sent her worde
againe, she should not neede to trye masteryes, with drinckes
and medicines to make her come before her time : for so
doing, she might bring her selfe in daunger, and be cast
awaye for ever. Howbeit he advised her to goe her full
time, and to be brought a bed in good order, and then he
would finde meanes enough to make awaye the childe that
should be borne. And so with suche persuasions he drewe
ISO

ProdicoSj
Regents, or
protectours of

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

on this woman to her full time of deliverie. But so soone LYCURGU
as he perceyved she was neere her time, he sent certaine to
keepe her, and to be present at her laboure, commaunding
them that if she were brought a bed of a daughter, they
should leave her with the woman : and if it were a sonne,
they should forthwith bring it to him, in what place so-
ever he was, and what busines soever he had in hand. It
chaunced that she came even about supper time, and was
''delivered of a sonne. As he was sitting at the table with
the other magistrates of the cittie, his servants entred the
halle, and presented to him the litle babe, which he tenderly
tooke in his armes, and sayed openly to them that were
present : Beholde my lordes of Sparta, here is a Kinge borne
unto us. And speaking these wordes, he layed him do\\'ne
in the Kinges place, and named him Charilaus, as muche to Charilaus,
saye, as the joye of the people. Thus he sawe all the lookers king of the
on rejoycing muche, and might heare them prayse and extoll Lacedaemo-
his synceritie, justice, and vertue. By this meanes he raigned jj^j j' di^^j.
only as King, but eight moneths. From thenceforth he was siiis Halic.
taken and esteemed so just and syncere a man among the lib. 2.
cittizens, that there were moe that willingly obeyed him for
his vertue, then for that he was the Kings regent, or that
he had the government of the whole Realme in his hands.
Notwithstanding there were some that bare him displeasure
and malice, who sought to hinder and disgrace his credit,
and chiefly the friends and kinred of the Kings mother :
whose power and honour were thought much impayred by
Lycurgus authoritie. In so much, as a brother of hers
called Leonidas, entring boldly into great words with him
on a daye, dyd not sticke to say to his face, I knowe for a
certaintie one of these dayes thou wilt be King : meaning
thereby to bring him in suspition with the cittizens. Which
thing though Lycurgus never ment, yet of a subtill and
craftie wit Leonidas thought by geving out such words,
that if the young King happened to dye in his minoritie
naturally, it would be mistrusted that Lycurgus had secretly
made him awaye. The Kings mother also gave out such
like speaches, which in the end dyd so trouble him, with the
feare he had, what event might fall out thereof: that he
Q 121

1

LYCURGUS

Lycurgus
travelled
countryes.

Thales a poet
harper.

Lycurgusjor-
ney into Asia.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

determined to departe his countrie, and by his absence to
avoyde the suspition that therein might growe upon him
any waye. So he travelled abroade in the worlde as a
straunger, untill his nephew had begotten a sonne who was
to succeede him in his kingdome. He having with this
determination taken his jorney, went first of all into Creta,
where he diligently observed and considered the manner of
their living, the order of the government of their Common
weale, and ever kept company with the best, and ever was
conferring with the most learned. There he founde very
good lawes in his judgement, which he noted of purpose to
carie home to his countrie, to serve when time should come.
He founde there other lawes also, but of them he made no
reckoning. Nowe there was one man that above the rest
was reputed wise and skilfull in matters of state and govern-
ment, who was called Thales : with whom Lycurgus dyd so
much by intreatie, and for familier friendshippe, that he
persuaded him to goe with him unto Sparta. This Thales
was called the Poet Harper, whereupon he had that title
and name : but in effect he sange all that the best and
sufficientest governours of the worlde could devise. For all
his songes were goodly ditties, wherein he dyd exhorte and
persuade the people to live under obedience of the law, in
peace and concorde one with the other. His words were set
out with such tunes, countenance, and accents, that were so
full of swetenes, harmony, and pearsing : that inwardly it
melted mens heartes, and drue the hearers of a love to like
the most honest things, and to leave all hatred, enmitie,
sedition, and division, which at that time reigned sore
among them. So as it may be sayed, he it was that pre-
pared the waye for Lycurgus, whereby he afterwards re-
formed and brought the Lacedaemonians unto reason. At
his departing out of Creta, he went into Asia, with intent
(as it is sayed) to compare the manner of life and pollicie of
those of Creta (being then very straight and severe) with the
superfluities and vanities of Ionia : and thereupon to con-
sider the difference betwene their two manners and govern-
ments, as the physitian doth, who to knowe the hole and
healthfull the better, doth use to compare them with the
122

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

sicke and diseased. It is very likely it was there, where he LYCURGUS
first sawe Homers works, in the hands of the heires and
successours of Cleophylus : and finding in the same, aswell
many rules of pollicie, as the great pleasure of Poets faining,
he diligently coppied it out, and made a volume thereof to
carie into Grece. It is true there was much fame abroad of The prayse
Homers poesies among the Grecians, howbeit there were of Homers
fewe of them brought together, but were scattered here ^''^^^^•
and there in divers mens hands, in pampflets and peces
unsowed and without any order : but the first that brought Homers
them most to light among men, was Lycurgus. The poemes uu-
^Egyptians save, that he was in their countrie also, and f^owen to
4.U i ' • / J iU a. ui J- the Lrrecians,

that Having lounde there one notable ordniaunce among brought to

other, that their souldiers and men of warre were separated light by
from the rest of the people, he brought the practise of it Lycurgus.
into Sparta : where setting the marchants, artificers, and
labourers every one a parte by them selves, he did establish
a noble Common wealth. So the ^Egyptian historiographers,
and some others also of Grece doe write. He was also in
Africke, and in Spayne, and as farre as India, to conferre
with the wise men there, that were called the philosophers
of India. I knowe no man that hathe written it, saving
Aristocrates, that was Hipparchus sonne. The Lacedae-
monians wished for him often when he was gone, and sent
divers and many a time to call him home : who thought their
Kings had but the honour and title of Kings, and not the
vertue or majestic of a prince, whereby they dyd excell the
common people. But as for Lycurgus, they thought of him ~~-
thus : that he was a man borne to rule, to commaund, and to
geve order, as having in him a certaine naturall grace and '

power, to drawe men willingly to obeye him. Moreover the
Kings them selves Avere not unwilling to have him to retume —
home, bicause they hoped that his presence would somwhat
brydle, and restrayne the people from their insolencie and
disobedience towards them. Whereupon Lycurgus returning Lycur^is re-
home in this opinion and affection of men, it fell out that he tumeth and
was no sooner arrived, but he beganne to devise howe to alter chaungeth a
the whole government of the common weale, and throughout wealth
to chaunge the whole course and order of the state : thinck-

123

LYCURGUS

Lycurgus
counselleth
with the
oracle of
Apollo at
Delphes.

Chalceoecos,
lunos brasen
temple.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

ing that to make only certaine particular lawes were to
no purpose, but much like, as one should geve some easie
medicine, to purge an overthrowen bodye with all humours
and disseases. Therefore he thought first that all grosse and
superfluous humours, were meete to be dissolved and purged,
and then afterwardes to geve them a new forme and order of
government. When he had thus determined with him self,
before he would take in hand to doe any thing, he went to
the citty of Delphes : where after he had sacrificed to Apollo,
he consulted with him about his matters. From whom he
returned with this glorious title by the oracle of Pythia : O
beloved of the goddes, and rather god then man. Where
when he craved grace of Apollo to establishe good lawes in
his countrie, it was aunswered him : that Apollo graunted
his petition, and that he should ordaine the best and per-
fectest manner of a Common wealth, that ever had or should
be in the worlde. This aunswer dyd comforte him very
much, and so he beganne to breake his purpose to certen of
the chief of the cittie, and secretly to praye and exhorte
them to helpe him, going first to those he knew to be his
friends, and after by Title and litle he wanne others to him,
who joyned with him in his enterprise. So when he saw the
time fit for the matter, he caused thirtie of the chiefest men
of the cittie in a morning to come into the market place
well appointed and furnished, to suppresse those that would
attempt to hinder their purpose. Hermippus the historio-
grapher rehearseth twentie of the chiefest : but he that
above all others dyd most assist him in his doings, and was
the greatest ayde unto the stablishing of his laM^es, was called
« Arithmiadas. The king Charilaus hearing of this assembly,
dyd feare there had bene some conspiracie or insurrection
against his person, and for his safety he fled into the temple
of luno, called Chalceoecos, as much to saye, as lunos
brasen temple. Howbeit afterwards when he knew the
trothe, he waxed bolde, and came out of the temple againe,
and he him self favored the enterprise, being a prince of a
noble minde, howbeit very soft by nature, as witnesseth
Archelaus (that was then the other king of Lacedaemon) by
telling how Charilaus aunswered one that praised him to his
124

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

face, in saying he was a good man. And how should I not LYCURGU
(quoth he) be good, when I cannot be evill to the evill ?

In this chaunge of the state, many things were altered by ^ ■

Lycurgus, but his chiefest alteration was, his lawe of the Lycurgus in
erection of a Senate, which he made to have a regall powet stituteth a
and equall authoritie with the Kings in matters of weigh\ ^^g^^^^^f.^
and importance, and was (as Plato sayeth) to be the health- ^ja^g
full counterpease of the whole bodye of the Common weale. piafg-j;^^^
The other state before was ever wavering, somtime inclining
to tyrannic, when the Kings were to mightie : and somtime
to confusion, when the people would usurpe authoritie.
Lycurgus therfore placed betwene the Kings and the people,
a counsaill of Senatours, which was as a stronge beame, that
helde bothe these extreames in an even ballance, and gave
sure footing and ground to either parte, to make strong the
state of the comon weale. For the eight and twenty Sena-
tours (which made the whole bodye of the Senate) tooke
somtime the Kings parte, when it was nedefull to pull downe
the furie of the people : and contrarilie, they held sometimes
with the people against the Kings, to bridle their tyrannicall
government. Aristotle sayeth, he ordeined the number of
Senatours to be but eight and twenty, bicause tAvo of thirtie 23 were the
that joyned with him as a fore, dyd for feare forsake him at number oft
his enterprise. Howbeit Sphserus writeth, that from the Senatours.
beginning, he never purposed to have more then eight and
twenty to be the Senate. And perhappes he had great
regard to make it a perfect number, considering it is com-
pounded of the number of seven, multiphed by foure : and
is the first perfect number next to sixe, being equall to all
partes gathered together. But as for me, my opinion is, he
chose this number rather then any other, bicause he ment
the whole bodye of the counsaill should be but thirtie
persones, adding to that number, the two Kinges. Lycurgus
tooke so great care to establishe well this counsell, that he
brought an oracle for it, from Apolloes temple in Delphes.
This oracle is called unto this daye Retra, as who would Retra of
saye, the statute oracle : whereof the aunswer was. When Lycur^s.
thou hast built a temple unto lupiter the Syllanian, and to
Minerva the Syllanian, and devided the people into lineages,

125

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

LYCURGUS thou shalt stablishe a Senate of thirtie counsellers, with the
two Kings : and shalt assemble the people at times con-
venient, in the place betweene the bridge and the river
Cnacion fl. Cnacion. There the Senatours shall propound all matters,
and breake up after their assemblies : and it shall not be
lawfull for the people to speake one worde. In those dayes
The open the people were ever assembled betweene two rivers, for
fields appoint- there was no hall to assemble a counsaill at large, nor any
Counsaill other place prepared for them. For Lycurgus thought no
buylded place meete for men to geve good counsaill in, or
to determine causes, but rather a hinderance : bicause in
such places men be drawen to muse on vaine things, and
their mindes be caried awaye wdth beholding the images,
tables, and pictures, comonly set up for ornament in such
open places. And if it be in a Theater, then beholding the
place where the playes and sportes be made, they thincke
more of them, then any counsaill. Againe, if it be in a
great hall, then of the fayer embowed or vawted roofes, or
of the fretised seelings curiously wrought, and sumptuously
set forth, and tend not still their busines they come for.
When the people were assembled in counsaill, it was not
lawfull for any of them to put forth matters to the counsell
to be determined, neither might any of them deliver his
opinion what he thought of any thinge : but the people had
onely authoritie to geve their assent (if they thought good)
to the things propounded by the Senatours, • or the two
Kings. Howbeit afterwardes, the two Kings Polydorus and
Theopompus, bicause the people dyd many times crosse and
alter the determination of the Senate, by taking away or
adding some thing to it, they dyd adde these wordes to the
oracle aforesaid. That if the people would not assent to
any ordinaunce of the Senate, then should it be lawfull for
the Kings and Senate to breake up the counsell, and to
frustrate all things done in the same : the wise advise of the
Senate being encountered thus, and their meaning to the
best, so perverted to the worse. These two Kings persuaded
the people, that at the very first, this addition came with
the oracle of Apollo : as the poet Tyrtaeus maketh mention
in the place, where he saveth :
126

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

From Delphos He, this oracle is brought LYCURGl

of Pythia : into their country soyle.
The Kings (even they to whom of right there ought

a loving care in princely breasts to boyle,

the Spartane vi^ealthe, to garde from every spoyle :)
Shalbe the chief, grave causes to decyde

with Senatours : whose sounde advise is tride.
And next to them, the people shall fulfill

asmuche as seemes, to please their princes will.

Lycurgus now having thus tempered the forme of his
comon weale, it seemed notwithstanding to those that came
after him, that this small number of thirtie persones that
made the Senate, was yet to mightie, and of to great autho-
ritie. Wherefore to bridle them in a litle, they gave them
(as Plato sayeth) a bytte in their mouths, and that was the
authoritie of the Ephores, which signifie as much as comp- The institu
trollers : and were erected about a hundred and thirtie yeres tion of tlie
after the death of Lycurgus. The first which was chosen of Ephores.
these, was Elatus, and it was in the time of king Theo-
pompus, whose wife on a daye in her anger sayed : howe
throughe his negligence he would leave lesse to his suc-
cessours, then he had receyved of his predecessours. To
whom he aunswered againe, Not lesse but more, for that
it shall continue lenger, and with a more suertie. For, in
losing thus their too absolute power, that wrought them
great envie and hatred among their cittizens, they dyd escape
the daunger and mischief that their neighbours the Argives,
and Messenians dyd feele : who would not geve over the
soveraine authoritie which they had gotten once. This
example maketh Lycurgus great wisdome and foresight Lycurgus
manifestly knowen : who so will deeply consider the seditions wisdome.
and ill governements of the Argives, and Messenians (their
neere neiglibours and kinsemen) aswell from the people, as
from the Kings. Who from the beginning had all things
alike to the Spartans : and in deviding of their lands a farre
better order then theirs. This notwithstanding, they dyd
not prosper longe : but through the pryde of their Kings,
and the disobedience of their people, they entred into civill
warres one against another, shewing by their disorders
and misfortunes the speciall grace the godds dyd beare to

127

LYCURGUS

Lycurgus
maketh equall
division of
laTndes unto
the cittizens.

All the lands
throughe the
countrie of
Laconia, de-
rided into
30000 parts.

All tlie lands
about Sparta
into 9000
partes.

What barley
every parte
did yelde.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

Sparta, to geve them such a reformer, as dyd so wisely
temper the state of their common weale, as we will shewe
hereafter. The second lawe that Lycurgus made, and the
boldest and hardest he ever tooke in hande, was the making
of a newe division of their lands. For he sawe so great a
disorder and unequality among the inhabitants, aswell of
the countrie, as of the citie Lacedaemon, by reason some
(and the greatest number of them) were so poore, that they
had not a handfull of grounde, and other some being least
in number were very riche, that had all : he thought with
him self to banishe out of the cittie all insolencie, envie,
covetousnes, and deliciousnes, and also all riches and povertie,
which he tooke the greatest, and the most continuall plagues
of a cittie, or common weale. For this purpose, he imagined
there was none so ready and necessarie a meane, as to per-
suade his cittizens to suffer all the landes, possessions, and
inheritance of their countrie, to ronne ii\jcommon together :
and that they should make a newe division equally in parti-
tion amongest them selves, to live from thenceforth as it
were like brothers together, so that no one were richer then
another, and none should seeke to go before cache other, any
other waye then in vertue only : thincking there should be
no difference or unequalitie among inhabitants of one cittie,
but the reproaches of dishonestie, and the prayses of vertue.
Thus Lycurgus following his determination, dyd out of
hande make a lawe of the division of their lands. For first
he dyd devide all the countrie of Laconia, into thirtie thou-
sand equall partes, the which he dyd set out for those that
inhabited about Sparta : and of those landes that joyned
next to the cittie of Sparta, that was the chief metropolitan
cittie of Laconia, he made other nine thousand partes, which
he devided to the naturall cittizens of Sparta, who be those
that are properly called Spartans. Howbeit some will saye,
he made but sixe thousand parts, and that king Polydorus
afterwards dyd adde to other three thousand partes. Other
saye also, that Lycurgus of these nine thousand partes made
but the halfe onely, and Polydorus the rest. Every one of
these partes was such, as might yelde unto the owner yerely,
three score and tenne bushels of barley for a man, and twelve
128

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

bushels for the woman, and of wine and other liquide fruites, LYCURGUS
much like in proportion: which quantitie Lycurgus j udged
to be sufficient, to kepe the bodye of a man in health, and
to make him stronge and lustie, without any further allow-
ance. They save after this, as be returned home one day
out of the fields, and came over the lands where wheate
had bene reaped not longe before, and sawe the number of
sheaves lying in every shocke together, and no one shocke
bigger then another : he fell a laughing, and told them that
were with him, Me thinks all Laconia is as it were an in-
heritance of many brethern, who had newly made partition
together. He gave an attempt to have devided also move-
ables, and to have made a common partition betwene them,
to thend he would have utterly taken away all unequalitie.
But finding the cittizens tooke it very impatiently, that
openly that which they had, should be taken awaye : he
went about to doe it more secretly, and in a conninger wise
to take away that covetousnes. For first of all, he dyd
forbid all co\^le of golde and sylver to be currant : and then Lycurgus
"Tie dyd set out certaine coynes of iron which he commaunded chauugeth all
only to be currant, whereof a great weight and quantitie S'.j ® ?""
was but litle worthe. So as to laye up therof the value of iron covne
tenne Minas, it would have occupied a whole celler in a
house, besides it would have neded a yoke of oxen to carie
it any where. Nowe golde and silver being thus banished
out of the countrie, many lewde partes and faultes must
needes cease thereby. For who would robbe, steale, picke,
take awaye, hyde, procure, or whorde up any thing, that he
had no great occasion to desire, nor any profit to possesse,
nor would be any pleasure to use or employe. For, the iron
they occupied for their coyne, they cast vineger upon it
while it was redde hotte out of the fire, to kill the strength

and working of it to any other use : for thereby it was so ^ ^

eger and brickie, that it would byde no hammer, nor could
be made, beaten, or forged to any other facion. By thig Lycurgus
meanes he banished also, all superfluous and unprofitable made all
sciences, which he knew he should not neede to doe by any sciences and
proclamation : bicause they would fall awaye (or the most value
parte of them) even of them selves, when the basenes of the
R 129

liTgtutA^

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

LYCURGUS money they should take for their worke, should undoe them.
For their iron moneys were not currant els where in the
citties of Grece, but every bodye made a jeste of it there.
By this occasion, the Lacedaemonians could buye no forrein
wares nor marchandises, neither came there any shippe into
their haven to trafficke with them, neither any fine curious
Rethorician dyd repaire into their countrie to teache them
eloquence, and the cunning cast of lying : nor yet came
there to them any wysard to tell them their fortune, nor any
Pander to keepe any brothell house, nor yet goldsmithe or
jueller, to make or sell any toyes or trifles of golde or silver
to set forth women : considering all these things are used to
be made to get money, and to hourd up that they had not.
After this sorte, delicatenes that wanted many things that
entertained it, beganne by litle and litle to vanishe awaye, and
lastely, to fall of from them selves : when the most riche men
had no more occasion then the poorest, and riches having
no meane to shewe her selfe openly in the worlde, was fayne
to remaine shut at home idely, as not able to doe her master
any service. Thereupon moveables and householde stuffe
(which a man cannot be without, and must be daylie occu-
pied) as bedsteades, tables, chayers, and suche like necessaries
for house, were excellently well made : and men dyd greatly
prayse the facion of the Laconian cuppe which they called
Cothon a Cothon, and specially for a souldier in the warres, as Critias

straunp^ekinde ^y^s wont to saye. For it was made after such a facion, that
the culler of it dyd let the eye to discerne the fowle and
unwholsome water, which men are driven oftetimes to drinke
in a campe, and goeth many times against ones stomake to
see it : and if by chaunce there was any filth or mudde in
the bottome, it would cleave and sticke fast upon the ribbes
of the bellie, and nothing came through the necke, but
cleane water to his mouth that drancke it. The reformer of
their state was the cause of all this : bicause their artificers
tending now no superfluous works, were occupied about the
making of their most necessary things. Further, nowe to
drive awaye all superfluitie and deliciousnes, and to roote
out utterly desire to get and gather : heTflade another thirde
lawe for eating and drincking, and against feastes and
130

of cuppe of
the Lacedae-
monian soul
diers.

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

banckcts. First he willed and commaunded the cittizens, LYCURGITS
that they should eate together all of one meate, and chiefly Lycurgus
of those he had permitted by his ordinance. Then he dyd appointeth
expressely forbid them to eate alone, or a parte, or secretly ^''der for dyel
by them selves, upon riche tables and sumptuous beddes, dsmonians*'^
abusing the labour of excellent worcke men, and the devises
of likerous cookes to cramme them selves in corners, as they "^"-~ — ■
doe fatte up beastes and poultrie, which doth not only breede
ill conditions in the minde, but dothe marre the complexions
of men, and the good states of their bodie, when they give
them selves over to such sensualitie and gluttonie. Whereof
it foUoweth in the ende that men must needes sleepe muche,
to helpe to digest the excesse of meates they have taken,
and then must they goe to the whotte houses to bathe them
selves, and spend long time about the ordinarie attendance
of their sickely bodyes. This was a marveilous thing for
him to bring to passe, but much more, to make riches not
to be stolen, and least of all to be coveted, as Theophrastus
sayd of him : which by this meanes of making them eate to-
gether with all sobriety at their ordinarie dyet, was brought
to passe. For there was no more meane to the riche, then
to the poore, to use to playe, or shewe riches, sithe both of
them were forced to be together in one place, and to eate
all of one meate : so as that which is commonly spoken, that
Pluto the god of riches is blinde, was truely verified only in
the cittie of Sparta, above all other places of the worldc. For
there riches was layed on the grounde like a corse without a
soule, that moveth no whit at all : considering it was not
lawfull for any man to eate at home secretly in his house,
before he came to their open halles, nor might not come
thither for a countenance only to his meales, being already
fedde and full fraight. For every mans eye was upon
those specially which did not eate and drincke with a good
stomake amongest them : and it was the use to reproche
them as gluttons, and dayntie mouthed men, which refused
to eate as it were in common together. So as this was the
ordinance they saye, that grieved most the riche above all
that Lycurgus made, and whereat they were most madde and
angrie with him : in so muche, as on a daye, they all setting

131

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

LYCURGUS upon him to alter it, he was compelled to ronne out of the
market place, and getting grounde of them, he recovered
the liberties of a churche, before any could overtake him :
saving one young man called Alcander, who otherwise
had no ill nature in him, but that he was somewhat
quicke of his hande, and cholericke with all. Who fol-
lowing Lycurgus nerer then any other, dyd geve him a
Alcander blowe overthwart the face with a staffe, and strake out
strooke out one of his eyes, as Lycurgus turned toward him. Yet for
Lycurgus eye. ^H this, Lycurgus never bashed or made worde at the matter,
but dyd lifte up his head to those that followed him, and
shewed them his face all a gore bloude, and his eye put out
cleane : whereof they were all so sore ashamed, that there
was not a man that durst once open his mouth against him,
but to the contrarie, they seemed to pittie him, and dyd
deliver Alcander into his handes that had done the dede, to
punishe him as him selfe pleased. And so they all brought
him to his house, and shewed they were right hartely sorie
for his hurte. Lycurgus thancking them, returned them all
backe againe, save that he made Alcander to goe with him
Lycurgus into his house, where he never hurte him, nor gave him
pacience and fowle worde : but commaunded him onely to waite upon
gentlenes. }i[xn, and made his other ordinarie servaunts to withdraw
their waiting. This young man who now beganne to spye
his owne faulte, dyd most willingly attend upon him, and
never spake worde to the contrarie. When he had served
him a certaine time, being very nere continually about him,
he beganne to feele and taste of his naturall liberalitie, and
sawe of what affection and intention Lycurgus was moved to
doe all he dyd : he perceyved what was the severitie of his
ordinary life, and what his constancy was to endure labour
without wearines. Alcander then beganne to love and
honour Lycurgus from his harte, and tolde his parents and
friends, howe he was no suche severe man as he seemed, but
was of so kynde and gentle a nature to all men as might be.
See I praye you howe Alcander was transformed by Lycurgus,
and his punishement also, which he should have receyved :
for of a fierce, rashe, and a lewde conditioned youth he was
before, he became nowe a very grave and wise man. But for
182

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

memoric of this his misfortune, Lycurgus built a temple to LYCURGUS
Minerva, which he surnamed Optiletide, bicause the Dorians Minerva
which dwell in those partes of Peloponnesus, doe call the eyes, optUetide.
optiles. There are other writers (as Dioscorides for one)
which saye Lycurgus had a blowe with a staife, but he had
not his eye striken out with it : and how contrariwise, he
founded this temple to Minerva, to give her thanckes for
healing of his eye. Hereof it came, that ever since the
Spartans have bene restrayned to carie staves in any as-
sembly of counsell. But to returne to their common repastes,
which the Cretans called Andria, and the Lacedaemonians p^fj!^.^^^
Phiditia, either bicause they were places wherein they learned n^gaies"„.iiy
to live soberly and straightly (for in the Greke tongue Phido, g^ called. "
is to save and spare) or els bicause their amitie and friend-
shippe grewe there towards one another, as if they would
have called them Philitia, ' feasts of love,' by chaunging d
into L : It maye be also they added the first letter as super-
fluous, and meant to call the places Editia, bicause they dyd
eate and drincke there. They sat in their halles by fifteene
in a companie, litle more or lesse, and at the beginning of
every moneth every one brought a bushell of meale, eight
gallons of wine, five pound of cheese, and two pound and a
halfe of figges for a man, besides some litle portion of their
monye to buye certaine freshe acates. And over and above
all this, every man when he dyd sacrifice in his house, was
bounde to send the best and chief est things of his sacrifice to
the halles to be eaten. Likewise if any man went an hunt-
ing, and killed any venison : it was an order, he should send
a pece of the fleshe thither. Having these two lawfull causes,
they might eate and drinke by them selves at home, either
when they sacrificed any beast to the goddes, or when they
came late home from hunting : otherwise they were bounde
of necessitie to meete in their halles at meales, if they would
eate any thing. This order they kept very straightly a
great time : in so muche as king Agis on a daye, returning
from the warres, where he had overthrowen the Athenians,
and being desirous to suppe at home privately with the
Queene his wife,1ie sent to the halles for his portion. But
the Polemarchi, that be certaine officers assisting the Kings

133

LYCURGUS

Children were
brought to
these meales.

The propertie
of a Lacedffi-
monian.

The order of
receiving any
man into their
company at
meales.

The blacke
broth.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

in the warres, dyd denye him. The next daye Agis left of
for spight, to doe the accustomed sacrifice they were wont to
celebrate in the ende of every warre : whereupon they set a
fine on his head, and condemned him to paye it. The young
children also went to these repasts, even as they should goe
to schooles to learne gravity and temperaunce, where they
heard wise and grave discourses touching the government of
a common weale, but not of masters that were as hierlinges.
There they learned pretylie • to playe upon wordes, and plea-
sauntly to sporte one with another, without any broade
speaches, or uncomely Jestes, and at others handes to beare
the same againe, without choller or anger. For this pro-
pertie have the Lacedaemonians above all other, to take and
geve a mocke without any offence : nevertheles, if any mans
nature could not beare it, he neded but praye the partie to
forbeare his jesting, and so he lefte it straight. And it was
ever an ordinarie among them, that the eldest of the com-
panie tolde the rest that were come into the hall to meale,
with shewing them of the dore : Sirs, remember, there goeth
not a worde here out of this dore. Even so he that would
be receyved to meale there in their companie, must first of
necessitie be allowed and receyved in this sorte, by all the
rest. Every one of them tooke a litle balle of branne or
dowe to washe their handes with, and without ever a word
speaking, they threwe it into a basen, which the servant that
waited on them at the table dyd carie upon his head : he
that was contented the other should be receyved in com-
panie, dyd cast in his balle as he dyd receyve it, but if he
misliked him, then he pressed it flat betwene his fingers,
and threwe it in. This ball of branne thus pressed flat was
asmuch as a beane bored thorough, and was to them a signe of
condemnation. If any one balle were found of this sorte, the
suter was rejected : for they would not have any enter into
their companie, that was not liked of all the rest. He that
thus was rejected, they saye he was discadded : for the basin
wherein the litle balles were caried, was called Caddos.
The best dishe they served at these meales, was that they
call their blacke brothe : so that when they had that, the
olde men dyd eate no fleshe, but lefte it all to the younge
1S4

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

men, and they by them selves dyd eate the brothe. There LYCURGUJ

was a king of Pontus, that being desirous to taste of this Cicero callet'

blacke broth, dyd buye of purpose a Lacedaemonian cooke : this King,

but after he had once tasted thereof, he was very angry yionysius th

straight. The cooke then sayed unto him : And it please /

your grace, ere one shall finde this brothe good, he must be

washed first in the river Eurotas. After they had eate and

druncke thus soberly together, every one repaired home

without any light : for it was not lawfull for them to goe

thither, nor any where els with light, bicause they should

accustome them selves boldely to goe up and downe the

darcke, and all about in the night. This was the order and

manner of their meales. But here is specially to be noted,

that Lycurgus would in no wise have any of his lawes put in Lycurgus

writing. For it is expressely set downe in his lawes they call would not

Retra, that none of his lawes should be written. For he , ^^^ .

thought that which should chiefly make a cittie happie, and otherwise

vertuous, ought throughly by education to be printed in then in mens

mens heartes and manners, as to have continuaunce for ever : myndes.

which he tooke to be love and good will, as a farre stronger

knot to tye men with, then any other compulsary lawe. Which

when men by use and custome through good education doe

take in their childhoode, it maketh every man to be a lawe

to him selfe. Furthermore, concerning buying and bargan-

ing one with another, which are but trifles, and sometime

are chaunged in one sorte, and sometime in another, as

occasion serveth : he thought it best not to constrayne them

to doe it by writing, nor to establishe customes that might

not be altered, but rather to leave them to the libertie and

discretion of men which had bene brought up in the same,

bothe to take awaye, and to adde therein, as the case and

time should require. But to conclude, he thought the

chiefest pointe of a good lawe maker or reformer of the

common weale was, to cause men to be well brought up and

instructed. One of his ordinaunces therefore was expressely,

that not one of his lawes should be written. Another of his

devises was, against superfluous charges and expences : which Retra, for ex

to avoyde, he made a lawe that all roofes of houses should *^®^^^ *^^ '">'•**

be made only with the axe, and all gates and doores witli

135 "

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

LYCURGUS the sawe, and that without any other toole of occupation.
Wherein he had the like imagination as afterwards Epami-
Epaminondas nondas had, when he sayed, speaking of his table : Such a
saying. borde never receyveth any treason. Even so thought Lycur-
gus, that such a buylt house would never receyve curiositie
; or daintines. For no man is so maddely disposed or simple
'\ witted, as to bring into so poore and meane houses, bed-
steades with silver feete, imbrodered coverlettes, or counter-
i poyntes of purple silke, neither yet plate of golde nor of
{ silver, nor suche other like costly furniture and finenes, as
)> those things require to wayte upon them : bicause the beddes
;■ must be aunswerable to the meanenes of the house, the furni-
' tures of the beddes must be sutelike to the same, and all
other householde stuffe, dyet, meate, and drinke agreable to
the rest. Hereof proceeded that, which Leontychidas the
first King of that name, sayed once : who supping on a time
in the cittie of Corinthe, and seeing the roofe of the hall
where he satte, sumptuously embowed and carved, he asked
straight if the trees dyd growe carved so in that countrie.
The third lawe was, he dyd forbyd them to make warre
often with one enemie, lest the enemie forced to take often
armes in hande, might in the ende growe experter and
vallianter then they. For this cause king Agesilaus was
greatly blamed, who was a longe time after. For by making
often warres with the countrie of Boeotia, he made the
Thebans in the ende as expert and valliant souldiers, as the
Lacedaemonians. Whereupon Antalcidas seeing him hurte
Antalcidas one daye, sayed unto him : The Thebans have nobely re-
saying, warded thee for their learning, sith thou hast made them
expert soldiers unwilling to learne the discipline of warre.
These be the lawes Lycurgus selfe called Retra, and signifie
as muche as Oracles, that the god Apollo had discovered to
him. Nowe the education of children, he esteemed the
chief est and greatest matter, that a reformer of lawes should
establishe. Therefore beginning a farre of, he first con-
sidered the state of mariage, and the generation of children.
For Aristotle sayeth, that Lycurgus dyd attempt to reforme
women, and dyd soone geve it over againe : bicause he could
doe no good therein, by reason of the great libertie they had
136 ' ^

King Leonty-
chidas saying.

Retra for
warres.

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

taken by the absence of their husbands in the warres, com- LYCURGUS
pelled often so to be abroade, and that they dyd leave them
mistresses of their house, and at their returne dyd honour
them so muche, and make of them so beyond e measure, with
calling them ladyes and mistresses. Howbeit this is true,
that he had an eye to the rule and order of their life, aswell
as he had of mens : and so reason dyd require. First of all, The disciplini
he willed that the maydens should harden their bodyes with of women
exercise of running, wrestling, throwe the barre, and casting ^"^o^^est e
the darte, to the ende that the fruite wherewith they might njans. Arist.
be afterwardes conceyved, taking norishement of a stronge poHt. lib. 7.
and lustie bodye, should shoote out and spread the better : cap. 17.
and that they by gathering strength thus by exercises, should
more easely awaye withe paynes of childe bearing. And to
take awaye from them their womanishe dayntines, and fines. The exercises
he brought up a custome, for young maydes and boyes to ^^^ disciplin
goe as it were a precession, and to daunce naked at solemne ^ ^^^ ^^'
feastes and sacrifices, and to singe certaine songes of their
owne making, in the presence and sight of young men. To
whom by the waye they gave many times prety mockes of
purpose, as pleasauntly hitting them home, for things wherein
before they had forgotten their dueties : and sometimes also
in their songe for their vertues, wittes, or manners, they
praysed them which had deserved it. By this meanes, they
dyd set young mens hartes a fire, to strive to winne most
prayse and honour. For who so was praysed of them for a
valliant man, or whose worthy actes were songe by them, he
thereby was incoraged to doe the better another time : and
the pretie girdes and quippes they gave to others, was of no
lesse force, then the sharpest wordes and admonitions that
otherwise could be geven them. This tooke place the rather,
bicause it was done in the presence of the Kings, the Sena-
tours, and all the rest of the cittizens which came thither to
see these sportes. And though the maydes dyd shewe them
selves thus naked openly, yet was there no dishonesty scene
nor offred, but all this sporte was full of playe and toyes,
without any youthfull parte or wantonnes : and rather caried
a shewe of demurenes, and a desire to have their best made
bodyes scene and spyed. Moreover, it somewhat lifted up
S 137

LYCURGUS

The saying of
a Laconian
woman.

Men that
would not
marye, Lycur-
gus reputed
infamous by
lawe.

Matrimoniall
ceremonies in
Lacedsemon.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

their hartes, and made them noblier minded, by geving them
to understand, that it was no lesse comely for them, in their
k3nide and exercises to carie the bell, then it was for men in
their games and exercises to carie the price. Hereof it
came, that the women of Lacedaemon were so bolde to saye,
and thincke of them selves that, which Gorgona the wife of
king Leonidas one daye aunswered : being in talke with a
straunge woman that sayed to her : There be no women in
the worlde that commaund their husbands, but you wives of
Lacedaemon. Whereto the Queene straight replyed : So be
there no women but we, which bringe forth men. Further-
more, these playes, sportes, and daunses, the maydes dyd
naked before younge men, were provocations to drawe and
allure the young men to marye : not as persuaded by geo-
metrical! reasons, as sayeth Plato, but brought to it by
liking, and of very love. Those which would not marye, he
made infamous by lawe. For it was not lawfull for suche
to be present, where these open games and pastimes were
shewed naked. Furthermore, the officers of the cittie com-
pelled suche as would not marye, even in the hardest time of
the winter, to environne the place of these sportes, and to
goe up and downe starcke naked, and to singe a certaine
songe made for the purpose against them, which was : that
justely were they punished, bicause that lawe they disobeyed.
Moreover, when suche were olde, they had not the honour
and reverence done them, which old maried men usually
received. Therefore there was no man that misliked, or
reproved that, which was spoken to Dercillidas : albeit
otherwise he was a noble captaine. For, comming into a
presence, there was a young man which would not vowche-
safe to rise and doe him reverence, nor to geve him place for
to sit downe : And worthely, quoth he, bicause thou hast not
gotten a sonne, who maye doe so muche for me in time to
come. Those which were desirous to marie any, were driven
to take them awaye by force whom they would marie, not
litle younge wenches I meane, which were not of age to be
maried : but lustie and strong maides of age to beare chil-
dren. And when one of them was stolen awaye in this sorte,
she that was privie thereto, and meane to make the mariage,
138

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

came and shaved the heares of her head that was maried : LYCURGUS
then she put her into mans apparell, and gave her all things
sute like to the same, and layed her upon a matteresse all
alone, without light or candell. After this was done, the
bridegroome, being neither droncke nor finelier apparrelled
then he was wonte to be, but having supped soberly at his
ordinarie, came home secretly to the house where the bride
was : and there untied his wives girdell, tooke her in his
amies, layed her upon a bed, and talked together a while,
and afterwards fayer and softely stole awaye to the place,
where he was wonte to sleepe with other young men. And
so from thenceforth, he continued allwayes to doe the like,
being all the daye time, and sleeping most of the night,
with his companions, onles he sometime stale to see his wife,
being affrayed, and ashamed ever to be scene, by any of the
house where she was. And hereunto his younge wife did
helpe for her parte, to spye meanes and occasions howe they
might mete together, and not be scene. This manner
endured a great while, and untill somme of them had
children, before they boldely met together, and sawe cache
other on the daye time. This secret meeting in this sorte
did serve to good purposes, not only bicause it was some
meane of continencie and shamefastnes, but also it kept
their bodies in strength and better state, to bring forth
children. It continued also in both parties, a still burning Holsomerule:
love, and a newe desire of the one to the other, not as it were ^^^ maned
luke warme, nor wearie, as theirs commonly be which have ^
their bellies full of love, and as muche as they lust : but
they ever parted with an appetite one from another, keeping
still a longing desire to devise howe to mete againe. Nowe
when he had stablished suche a continencie, and so kynde a
framed honestie in mariage, he tooke no lesse care to drive
awaye all foolishe jealousie therein, thinking it very good Lycur^s re-
reason to beware there should be no violence, nor confusion pj'd to avoyd
in mariage: and yet as reason would, they should suffer ■^^^g*^^^^^"^
those which were worthie to get children as it were in com- wealth,
mon, laughing at the mad follie of them which revenge such
things with warre and bloudshed, as though in that case
men in no wise should have no fellowshippe together. There-

139

ii

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

LYCURGUS fore a man was not to be blamed, being stepped in yeres,
and having a young wife, if seeing a fayer young man that
liked him, and knowen with all to be of a gentle nature, he
brought him home to get his wife with childe, and after-
wardes would avowe it for his, as if him selfe had gotten it.
It was lawfull also for an honest man that loved another
mans wife, for that he sawe her wise, shamefast, and bring-
ing forth goodly children, to intreate her husband to suffer
him to lye with her, and that he might also plowe in that
lustie grounde, and cast abroade the seede of well favored
children : which by this meanes came to be common in
bloude and parentage, ^vith the most honorable and honestest
persones. For first of all, Lycurgus did not like that children
should be private to any men, but that they should be
common to the common weale : by which reason he would
also, that such as should become cittizens, should not be
begotten of every man, but of the most honestest men only.
So Lycurgus thought also there were many foolishe vaine
toyes and fansies, in the lawes and orders of other nations,
touching mariage : seeing they caused their bitches and
mares to be limed and covered with the fayrest dogges and
goodliest stalons that might be gotten, praying or paying
the masters and o^vners of the same : and kept their wives
notwithstanding shut up safe under locke and key, for feare
least other then them selves might get them with childe,
although they were sickely, feeble brayned, and extreme
olde. As if it were not first of all, and chiefly a dis-
commoditie to the fathers and mothers, and likewise to
those that bring them up, to have unperfect and feeble
children borne, as it were begotten of drie and withered
men : and then to the contrarie, what pleasure and benefit
is it to those that have fayer and good children borne,
as gotten of like seede and men. These things were done
then by naturall and civill reason, nevertheles they saye
women were so farre of then from intreatie, as ever they
were before : so as in olde time, in Sparta, men knew not
what adulterie ment. For proofe whereof, the aunswer made
by Geradas (one of the first auncient Spartans) unto a
straunger, maye be alledged : that asked him, what punishe-
140

No adultrie
showen in
Sparta.

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

ment they had for adulterers. My friend, quoth he, there be LYCURGUS
none here. But if there were ? replied the straunger againe.
Marye sayed he, then he must paye as great a bull, as stand-
ing upon the toppe of the mountaine Taygetus, maye drincke
in the river of Eurotas. Yea marye : but howe is it possible
(quoth the straunger) to finde such a bull ? Geradas laugh-
ing, aunswered him againe : And howe were it possible also
to finde an adulterer in Sparta ? And this is that which is
found of Lycurgus lawes touching mariages. Furthermore,
after the birthe of every boye, the father was no more master Theeducatioi
of him, to cocker and bring him up after his will : but he of children
him selfe caried him to a certaine place called Lesche, where with the Lace
the eldest men of his kinred being set, did viewe the childe. *"VQ5iaiis>
And if they founde him fayer, and well proportioned of all his ^^^^"^* J
limmes, and stronge : they gave order he should be brought ^""-^ — ^
up, and appointed him one of the nine thousand partes of
inheritaunce for his education. Contrariwise, if they founde
him deformed, misshapen, or leane, or pale, they sent him
to be throwen in a deepe pyt of water, which they commonly
called Apothetes, and as a man would saye, the common Apothetes.
house of office : holding opinion it was neither good for the
childe, nor yet for the common weale, that it should live,
considering from his birthe he was not well made, nor geven
to be stronge, healthfull, nor lustie of bodie all his life longe.
For this cause therefore, the nurce after their birthe did not
washe them with water simply (as they doe every where at
that time) but with water mingled with wine : and thereby Young babes
did they proove, whether the complexion or temperature of washed with
their bodies were good or ill. For they suppose, that chil- "'^°®"
dren which are geven to have the falling sicknes, or other-
wise to be full of rewmes and sicknesses, cannot abide washing
with wine, but rather drye and pyne awaye : as contrarilie the
other which are healthfull, become thereby the stronger and
the lustier. The nurces also of Sparta use a certaine manner The Spartan
to bring up their children, without swadling, or binding nurces.
them up in clothes with swadling bandes, or having on their
heades any crosse clothes : so as they made them nimbler of
their limmes, better shaped and goodlier of bodie. Besides
that, they acquainted their children to all kinde of meates,

141

Pluto of the
first Alcibia-
des.

Howe the La-
cedaemonians
children were
brought up.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

LYCURGUS and brought them up without muche tendaunce, so as they
were neither fine nor licorous, nor fearefull to be lefte alone
in the darcke, neither were they criers, wrallers, or unhappy
children, which be all tokens of base and cowardly natures.
So that there were straungers, that of purpose bought
nources out of Laconia, to bring up their children : as they
saye Amycla was one of them, which nourced Alcibiades.
But Pericles his tutor, gave him afterwardes a bonde man
called Zopyrus, to be his master and govemour : who had no
better propertie in him, then other common slaves. This
did not Lycurgus. For he did not put the education and
government of the children of Sparta, into the handes of
hyered masters or slaves bought with money : neither was it
lawfull for the father him selfe to bring up his owne childe
after his owne manner and liking. For so soone as they
came to seven yeres of age, he tooke and divided them by
companies, to make them to be brought up together, and to
accustome them to playe, to leanie, and to studie one with
another. Then he chose out of every company one, whom
he thought to have the best wit, and had most courage in
him to fight : to whom he gave the charge and oversight of
his owne companie. The reste had their eyes waiting
allwayes on him, they did obey his commaundements
willingly, they did abide paciently all corrections he gave
them, they did suche taskes and worckes as he appointed
them : so that all their studie was most to learne to obey.
Furthermore, the olde graye headed men were present many
times to see them playe, and for the most parte they gave
them occasions to fall out, and to fight one with another,
that they might thereby the better knowe and discerne the
naturall disposition of every one of them, and whether they
gave any signes or tokens in time to come, to become
cowardes or valiant men. Touching learning, they had as
muche as served their turne : for the reste of their time they
spent in learning howe to obey, to awaye with payne, to
indure labour, to overcome still in fight. Accordirg to their
groweth and yeres, they dyd chaunge the exercises of their
bodyes : they dyd shave their heads, they went barelegged,
they were constrained to playe naked together the most parte
142

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

of their time. After they were past twelve yeres of age, LYCURGUJ
they ware no lenger coates : and they gave them yerely but
one seely gowne. This was the cause they were alwayes so
nasty and sluttishe, and they never used to bathe or noynte
them selves, saving only at certaine dayes in the yere, when
they were suffered to tast of this refreshing. They laye and
slept together upon beddes of straw, which they them selves
dyd make, of the toppes of reedes or canes that grewe in the
river of Eurotas : which they were forced to goe gather and
breake them selves with their handes, without any toole or
iron at all. In the winter, they dyd mingle thistle downe It is a kiude
with these, which is called LycophonaSy bicause that stuffe "^ thistle in
seemeth somewhat warme of it selfe. About this time, the t'leMesseina
favorers and likers of this prety youthe, which were com- He^chias.
monly the lustiest and best disposed youthes of the cittie,
beganne to be ofter in their companie : and then the olde
men tooke the better regarde unto them, and frequented
more commonly the places of their daylie exercises, and
where their use was to fight together, helping them when
they played, how one should mocke another. This dyd their
olde men, not by waye of pastime only, but with suche care
and harty love towards them, as if they had bene altogether
their fathers, masters, and governours, Mobile they were boyes :
in so much as there was never time nor place, where they had
not all way es some to admonishe, reprove, or correct them, if
they dyd a faulte. Notwithstanding all this, there was ever
one of the honestest men of the cittie, who had expressely the
charge and governaunce of these boyes. He dyd divide them
in companies, and afterwards gave the oversight of them, to
suche a one of the boyes as was discreetest, the manliest, the
most bardie, and of the best corage amongest them. They
called the children that were past infancie two yeres, Irenes : Irenes.
and the greatest boyes Melirenes : as who woulcl saye, ready Melirenes.
to goe out of boyerie. This boye who was made overseer of
them, was commonly twenty yprps nf acrp He was their
captaine when they fought, and did commaunde them as his
servaunts when they were in the house : and willed them
which were strongest, and the most grovven, to carie wodde
when they should prepare dinner or supper, and those which

143

LYCURGUS

The theeverie
of the Lace-
daemouians.

Straight dyet
causeth
growth and
height.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

were least and weakest, to goe gather erbes, which they must
steale or lacke them. So they went out to steale some in
gardens, some at the markets, other in the halles where the
feastes were kept, and men did eate together, into the which
they conveyed them selves as closely and cumiingly as they
could devise : for if they were taken with the manner, they
were scourged terriblie, because they were so grosse and
necligent, and not fine and cunning in their facultie. They
stole also all other kinde of meate, whatsoever they could get
or laye hands on. They pried and sought all occasions howe
to take and steale meate handsomely, bothe when men were
asleepe, or els that they were careles, or did not geve good
hede unto them. But he that was taken with the manner,
had his payment roundely, and was punished with fasting
besides: for they had but a slender pittaunce, bicause necessity
should drive them to venter boldely, and wit should finde out
all the devises to steale finely. This was the chiefest cause,
why they gave them so small a diet. The seconde cause was,
that their bodies might growe up higher in height. For the
vitall spirites not being occupied to concoct and digest much
meate, nor yet kept downe, or spread abroade by the quan-
titie or overburden thereof, doe enlarge them selves into
lengthe, and shoote up for their lightnes : and for this reason
they thought the bodie did growe in height and lengthe,
having nothing to let, or hinder the rising of the same. It
seemeth, that the same selfe cause made them fayerer also.
For the bodies that are leane and slender, doe better and
more easely yeld to nature, which bringeth a better propor-
tion and forme to every member: and contrariwise it seemeth
these grosse, corpulent, and overfedde bodies doe encounter
nature, and be not so nimble and pliant to her, by reason of
their heavy substaunce. As we see it by experience, the
children which women bring a litle before their time, and be
somwhat cast before they should have bene borne, be smaller
and fayerer also, and more pure commonly then other that
goe their time : bicause the matter whereof the bodie is
formed, being more supple and pliant, is the easelier welded
by nature, which geveth them their shape and forme. Touch-
ing the naturall cause of this effect, let us geve place to other
144

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

to dispute it that will, without our further deciding of the LYCURGUS
same. But to returne to the matter of the Lacedaemonians
children. They dyd robbe with so great care, and feare to
be discovered : that they tell of one, which having stolen a
litle foxe, dyd hyde him under his cloke, and suffered him
with his teethe and clawes to teare out all his bellie, and
never cryed, for feare he should have bene betrayed, untill
he fell downe dead in the place where he stoode. This is
not uncredible, by that we see younge boyes doe abide at
this daye : for we have scene divers, which have bidden
whipping even to death, upon the altar of Diana, surnamed
Orthia, Nowe this under master, who had the charge of
every companie of these boyes, used after supper (sitting yet Childrens
at the table) to byd one of them singe a songe : to another exercise after
he put forth a question, who was to be well advised of his * ^^^ supper,
aunswer, as for example : Who is the honestest man in the „ , ^
cittie ? or Howe thinckest thou by that such a one dyd ? By K^^-a. i'\
this exercise they were enured from boyes state, to judge of j\X.^^
things well or ill done, and to understand the life ^^^^ „^i^^^^j^
government of their cittizens. For which of them did not v--v^~^

aunswer quickly and directly to these questions, who is a
good man, who is an honest cittizen, and who not : they
thought it was a signe of a dulle wit, and careles nature,
not geven to any vertue, for desire of honour and estimation.
Furthermore this under master was ever to waite for his
aunswer, and to see it should be brief and well knyt up in
wordes : otherwise his punishement that aunswered crossely,
or to litle purpose, was that his master byt him by the
thumbe. This he dyd many times in the presence of the
olde men and magistrates of the cittie, that they might see
whether he punished them with reason or not, and according
to their deserving. And though he dyd hurte him, they dyd
not by and by reprove him, but when the children were gone
awaye, then was he him selfe rebuked and punished, if he
had corrected them to sore, or contrarylie had favored them
to muche. Moreover they dyd ascribe the good or ill
opinion conceaved of the children, unto every of their
favorers, and lovers, which dyd affect and entertaine them :
in asmuch as they saye, a young boye upon a time fighting
T 145

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

LYCURGUS with another, and a crye scaping out of his mouthe, which

his fainte cowardly harte dyd yelde, his favorer and lover

was straight condemned by the officers of the cittie to a fine.

Albeit this love was a thing even incorporated into them,

that the most honest and vertuousest women loved the

The Lacedae- young maydes thus also : yet was there no jealousie nor

monians man- suspition that grewe hereof, but rather to the contrarie, there

nero oving. g^g^g g^ marvelous mutuall love and kyndnes betweene them,

which loved in one selfe place. For either of them by all

the meanes they could, dyd devise howe to make the childe

they loved in common, the wisest, the gentlest, and the best

conditioned above all other. They taught these children to

speake in suche sorte, that their speache had ever in it a

pleasaunt grace, and in fewe wordes comprehended much

matter. For Lycurgus ordained, a great masse and weight

of iron money, should be but litle worthe, and of a small

value, as we have tolde you before : and contrarilie, that

speache in fewe wordes, without any affectation, should holde

Short speache much deepe and grave matter, wherewith the children being

taught among acquainted, after long silence, should be brief and pitthie in

the Lacedae- their aunswers. For as the seede of incontinent men which

are to busie with every ragge and colman hedge, can take no

roote to bringe forth fruite : even so immoderate speache,

full of wordes and busie tattle, bringeth forth as litle sense.

Hereof it commeth, that the aunswers of the Laconians were

so shorte and witty. As they saye, king Agis aunswered on a

daye an Athenian, who jesting at the swords the Lacedag-

monians dyd were, sayed they were so shorte, that these

tumblers, and jugglers dyd swallowe them downe in the sight

of all the world : And yet sayed Agis, we hurte our enemies

with them for all that. For mine owne opinion, I like well

of the Laconians manner of speaking : which is not to speake

much, but when they speake, to touch the matter effectually,

and to make the hearers understand them. I thincke also,

Lycurguswise that Lycurgus selfe, was shorte and quicke in his talke. For

aunswers. g^ g^ j-j^^j^ jjjg^y conjecture by his aunswers which are written :

as that which he made to one who earnestly prayed him to

stablishe a popular state in Lacedasmon, that the basest

might have as great authoritie as the highest. Beginne

146

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

(quoth he) to doe it first in thine owne house. And as that LYCURGUS

also which he aunswered another who asked him, why he had

appointed so small things, and so little of value to be offered

to the goddes ? Bicause (quoth he) we should never cease to Lycurgus

honour them. And as that which he spake another time, love to god.

touching fightes and frayes, whicli was : that he dyd never

forbid his cittizens any of them, but those wherein they use

to geve their hande, as you would saye to yeld. Men finde To geve a

also suche like aunswers, in some of his letters written to his hand, is to

cittizens, as when they asked him : Howe can we defende confesse him

1 . . •' • o TT J xr 1- self overcome,

our selves agamst our enemies .'' He aunswered : It ye be

poore, and one doe covet no more then another. And in
another letter that was sent, where he discourseth, whether
it were requisite to inclose the cittie with walles : he sayeth,
Can that cittie be without walles, which is environned with
men, though it be uncompassed with stone ? Nevertheles it
is harde to resolve, whether those letters, and other suche
like that are shewed, be to be beleeved, or discredited to be
his. But that long speache was much disliked, and reproved Shorte
among the Lacedaemonians, it is manifestly to be scene by sentences
the words, which somme amongest them have heretofore L^conians
aunswered. As king Leonidas sayed one daye, to one that
discoursed with him many good things, but out of season : Leonidas.
Friend, thou speakest many good words, but to litle purpose. _.
And Charilaus, nephew to Lycurgus, being asked why his Charilaus.
uncle made so fewe lawes : Bicause sayed he, to men of fewe
wordes, fewe lawes will serve. And Archidamidas sayed Archida-
thus to somme, which reproved Hecataeus the Orator, for "^^^^^•
that being bidden to supper at one of their feasts he spake
not a worde all supper time : He who can speake well,
knoweth also when to speake. And where I have tolde
before, that in their feate and quicke aunswers, commonly
there was some prety grace, it maye be well seene and knowen
by these that followe. Demaratus aunswered a busie fellowe Sharpe sen-
who troubled him to much with vaine importunate questions, fences of the
asking him still : who was the honestest man of Lacedasmon ?
Even he that is least like thy selfe. And Agis sayed to Demaratus.
somme which highely praysed the Elians for their upright Agis.
judgement, and just dealing in the games Olympicall : What

147

LYCURGUS

Theopompus.

Plistonax,
Pausanias
Sonne.

Archida-
midas.

In the life of
Agesilaus.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

wonder make ye of it (quoth he) if in five yeres space the
Elians one daye doe good justice? And Theopompus like-
wise to a straunger, who as desirous to shew his affection he
bare the Lacedaemonians, told him how every bodye called
him Philolacon (as to saye) a lover of Lacedaemon. It were
more honestie for thee (sayed he) to be named Philolites, a
lover of her cittizens. And Plistonax the sonne of Pausanias,
when an Orator of Athens sayed the Lacedaemonians were
unlearned, and ignorant : thou say est true, quoth he, for we
only of all the Grecians have learned none of your ill condi-
tions. And Archidamidas, to one that demaunded of him,
what number of fighting men there might be of the Spartans :
Enowe sayd he, to drive awaye the wicked. We may con-
jecture also their manner of speaking, by their wordes in
mirthe, which they spake sometimes playing wise : for they
dyd never use to speake vaine wordes at randone, but it had
alwayes some secret meaning in it, which required anothers
good observation that would finde it. As he which was desired
to goe heare the nightingall counterfeated naturally : I have
(sayed he) heard the nightingall it selfe. And another which
having redde this inscription upon a tumbe.

When as they had, well quenched tyrannie
throughout their lande, by worthie warlike power,

The;r happe was yet in wretched wise to dye,
by scaling Selynuntaes strongest tower.

They well deserved death, sayed he, that dyd but quenche
tyrannie : they should have quite consumed it with fire.
And one younger boye to another, promising to geve him
suche hardie cockes of the game, as should dye in the place
where they fought : O geve me not those (said he) which
will dye, but those which with fighting will kill others.
Another seeing men sitting in coches and litters as they
went : God forbid (said he) that I should ever sit in a chayer,
where I could not rise to my elders. Suche were their
aunswers and encounters. So that somme had reason which
sayed heretofore, to speake Laconian like, was to be philo-
sopher like : as you would saye, more to exercise the minde,
then the bodye. Besides all this, they dyd studie to singe

148

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

well, and to make goodly ditties and songes. Then they LYCURGUS

spake most properly and feately. There was in their songs The Lacedse-

also a certaine motion, I wote not what, which stirred up the monians

hearers hartes, and dyd kindle desire in them to doe notable songes.

feates. Their tongue was plaine, without affectation : their

matter grave and morall, conteining for the most parte the

prayse of those, which were slayne in battell for the defence

of their countrie, as being happy men : and a shame to those

that live, which for fainte hartes refused so to dye, to leade

a miserable and unfortunate life. Or els they sange howe

they were the patternes for time to come, or the right glorie

of the worlde, and the true representation of vertuous men :

as the songe Avould best become their ages which dyd singe.

It shall not be impartinent for the better understanding

hereof, to bring you here an example. For in their open

feasts, there were alwayes three daunces, according to the Three daunces

difference of the three ages. The daunce of the olde men, among the

thus beganne first for to sina-e. Lacedsemo-

° ° mans.

We have bene young and strong, yea valliant heretofore,
till crooked age did holde us backe, and bad us doe no more.

The young men followed after, singing :

We yet are young, bolde, strong, and ready to maintaine

that quarell still, against all men that doe on earthe remaine.

The third was of children that came after and sayed :

Aiid we doe hope aswell, to passe you all at last,

and that the worlde shall witnes be, ere many yeres be past.

To conclude, who nerely will consider the worcks and
makings of the Lacon poets (wherof some are yet extant)
and will marke also the notes and tunes of the pipe, after
the sound and measure whereof they marched in arraye,
going to charge the enemie : he shall finde, that Terpander, Terpander of
and Pindarus, had reason to joyne hardynes with musicke. the Lacedae-
For Terpander speaking of the Lacedaemonians, sayeth in a "^oiiians.
place :

This is that lande where deedes of chevalrie,
did florishe most, in many a martiall feate :

149

LYCURGUS

Pyndarus of
the Lacedae-

The longe
bushes and
heare of the
Laconians.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

Where musickc made, her choise of hannonic,
and justice kept her stately royall seate.

And Pindarus speaking of them also sayeth :

There : grave advise, is founde in aged braynes :
there : gallant youthes, are lusty ladds in dede.

Which can both singe, and daunce, in courtlike traines :
yet dant their foes, with many a doughty dede.

By which testimonies it appeareth, the one and the other
made, and describeth them to have loved musicke, and the
warres together. For as another Lacon poet sayeth,

It sitteth well, and is a semely thinge,

for such as spend their time in feats of warre :

To have the skyll, swete sonets for to singe,
and touche the harpe withouten jangling jarre.

For this cause therefore in all their warres, when they
should geve battell, the King dyd first sacrifice to the Muses,
to put his souldiers in minde (as it should seeme) of the
discipline and wisdome of the Muses that they had bene
brought up in, to the end that when his souldiers were in
the most extreme daunger, the Muses should present them
selves before the souldiers eyes, to pricke them forward to
doe some noble actes of worthy memorie. In their time of
Avarre, they dyd tollerate their young men a litle of their
hard and old accustomed life, and suffered them then to
trime their heares, to have brave armour, to weare gay
apparell, and tooke as great delight therein, to see them
gallant, and lustie, as to behold young neying and snorting
horse, desirous for to fight. And althoughe from the begin-
ning of their youthe, they dyd use to weare longe heares :
yet were they never so carefull to combe and brushe their
heades, as when they should to the battell. For when they
dyd nointe them selves with sweete oyles, and dyd shed their
heare, remembring Lycurgus saying : who was wont to tell
them, that heares to them which were fayer, dyd make them
more fayer, and to them that were fowle, they made them
more ougly and dredfull. The exercises also of their bodies,
were more easie and gentle, and not so hard and straight in
their warres, as they were in a peace : and generally, their

150

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

whole manner of life was not then so straightly viewed, nor LYCURGUS
vet controlled. So as they only were the men of the world,
to whom warres were made a rest from labour, which men
ordinarylie doe endure, to make them the fitter for the
warres. Afterwardes when their armie was set in battell How the
raye, even in the face of the enemie, the King dyd straight L»conians be-
sacrifice a goate unto the goddes, and forthwith commaunded S^""® battell.
all his souldiers to put their garlands of flowers on their
heades, and willed that the pipes should sownd the songe of TheLaconians
Castor : at the noyse and tune whereof, he him selfe beganne ^^nge when
first to marche forward. So that it was a marvelous plea- g^^ j^J^ '^' "
sure, and likewise a dredfull sight, to see the whole battell
marche together in order, at the sound of the pipes, and
never to breake their pace, nor confounde their ranckes, nor
to be dismayde nor amazed themselves, but to goe on
quietly and joyfully at the sounde of these pipes, to hazard
themselves even to death. For it is likely, that such corages
are not troubled with much feare, nor yet overcome with
much furie : but rather they have an assured constancie and
valliantnes in good hope, as those which are backed with
the assisting favour of the goddes. The King marching in
this order, had allwayes some about him, which had before
time wonne the prises in games and justes. And they saye
there was one of these on a time, that was offered a great
some of money at the games Olympicall, not to present him
selfe at them : but he refused it, liking better with great
payne to winne the prise, then for muche money to lose his
honour. Whereupon one sayed unto him, Laconian : and
what hast thou gotten nowe, to carie away the prise with so
much swet ? The Laconian aunswered him laughing : I
shall fight in the battell, sayeth he, before the King. When
they had once broken into their enemies, they dyd still
fiercely and fiercelier set upon them, and dyd never cease,
untill their enemies gave waye and fled : and then they
chased and followed them still, untill such time as their How farre
overthrowe and flight had assured them of the victorie. *^® ^^^^^^^j
Then they quickly and quietly returned to their campe, JJJ'r^u^the^r
judging it to be no manhod, neither the parte of a noble enemies,
minde, or of so worthye a nation as the Grecians were, to

151

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

LYCURGUS kill and hewe in peeces, men so scattered and out of order,
having forsaken all the hope of victorie. This fell out not
only honorable, but also very profitable for them. For they
which were in battell against them, knowing they killed
none but suche as resisted stowtely, and howe they dyd let
other goe which fled before them : they found it was more
their benefit to flye, then to tarie and abide the strokes.
Lycurgus a Hippias the sophister sayeth, that Lycurgus him selfe was a
very good very good captaine, and a great souldier, as he that had
captaine. ^jg^^^ ^^ many foughten fieldes : and Philostephanus ascribeth

to him the devise to put horsemen in troupes and companies,
Oulames. which they called Oulames, whereof fiftie men at armes was

a troupe, whose manner was to put them selves in squadrons.
But Demetrius the Phalerian writeth otherwise, that Ly-
curgus was never at the warres, and that he made all his
lawes and government in a full peace. But in my opinion,
the intermission of warres during the playes Olympicall,
which they saye he devised, doeth shew in apparaunce that
he was a gentle natured man, and one that loved quietnes
and peace. Some notwithstanding (amongest whom Her-
mippus was one) saye, he was not with Iphitus at the first
beginning when he ordeined the playes Olympicall, but that
by chaunce he happened to come thither, passing by in his
jorney only, and that he stayed there to see the games:
where he thought he heard the voyce of a man behinde him,
saying, he marvelled much why he dyd not persuade his
cittizens also to be parteners of this newe devise : and turn-
ing backe to see who it was that spake to him, he sawe no
bodye. Whereupon he tooke a conceit that it was a speache
from the goddes : and went therefore presently to seeke out
Iphitus, with whom he made all the statutes and orders of
the feast, which afterwardes were farre more famous, better
ordered, and more stately then before. But to returne
ao-aine to the Lacedaemonians : their discipline and order of
life continued still, after they were full growen men. For it
was not la'\\'full for any man to live as he listed, but they
were within their cittie, as if they had bene in a campe,
where every man knoweth what allowance he hath to live
withall, and what busines he hath els to doe in his calling.
152

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

To be shorte, they were all of this minde, that they were not LYCURGUS
borne to serve them selves, but to serve their countrie. The Laco-
Therfore if they were commaunded nothing els, they went nians opinion,
continually to see what the children dyd, and to teache *^ sene their
them somewhat which might profit the common weale, or
els they went to learne of those which were their elders.
For one of the best and happiest things which Lycurgus
ever brought into his cittie, was the great rest and leysure The rest and
which he made his cittizens to have, only forbidding them leysure of the
that they should not professe any vile or base occupation : ?^^ aemo-
and they needed not also to be carefull to get great riches,
in a place where goodes were nothing profitable nor esteemed.
For the Ilotes, which were made bonde men by the warres,
dyd till their groundes, and yeelded them a certaine revenue
every year. And as touching this matter, they tell of a '-*
Lacedaemonian, who being on a daye at Athens where the
lawe was pleaded, dyd understand that a cittizen there was
condemned for Idlenes, and howe he went home to his house Idle livers
very sorowfully, accompanied with his friends which were punished at
sorie for him, and greatly lamented his ill happe. The
Lacedaemonian then prayed those which were about him, to
shewe him the man condemned for living nobly, and like a
gentleman. I have alledged this, to shew how he thought
it a vile and servill thing to exercise any handy craft, or to
worke any thing by hande to get money. For sutes in lawe, Sutes in lawe
a man maye be well assured they were banished with the ^^'f^ a\vaye
golde and silver from Lacedaemon, considering now there ^nd silver that
was no more avarice nor covetousnes there, nor yet povertie ^.^s banished,
nor lacke, but equalitie with aboundaunce, and quiet life
with sobrietie. All other times but when they had warres, How they
they followed daunsing, feastes, playes, bankets, hunting, or spent the time
other exercises of bodye, and meetinges to passe the time away. *" ^"^ ^*
For the younge men untill they came to thirtie yeres of age,
never went into the market to buye any provision or things
for the house, but dyd their fathers or their friends busines :
naye it was a shame for the oldest men, to hawnte the
market to often. As to the contrary, it was honorable for
them to be present at the shewe place the most parte of the
daye, where they diversely exercised their bodyes, and like-
U 153

\ The Lacedae-
monians lived
not privately
to them selves
in the com-
mon weale.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

LYCURGUS ^vise to be at the plax:es of assembly, there to spend time
with talking together, and discoursing honestly one with
another, without talking of any matter of gaine, traffike, or
money. For all their talke (for the most parte) was about
the praysing of some honest thing, or sportingwise to reprove
some dishonestie, which alwayes caried with it some gentle
lesson or monition by the waye. For Lycurgus was not such
a sower man, as they never sawe him laughe : but as Sosibius
writeth, it was he that first sacrificed to the litle god of
laughture, which is at Lacedasmon, bicause he would mingle
their feastes and assemblies with mirthe, as a pleasaunt sawce

to ease the trouble of their strickt and harde life. To be

brief, he did accustome his cittizens so, that they neither
would nor could live alone, but were in manner as men incor-
porated one with another, and were allwayes in company
together, as the bees be about their master bee : still in a
continuall love to serve their countrie, to winne honour, and

"~ " to advaunce the common weale. Which affection of theirs

is playne and easely seene to be imprinted in them by certen

Paedaretus of their aunswers, as in that which Paedaretus sayed on a

saying. time, being left out of the election of the number of the

three hundred. Who departing home to his house mery
and jocond as might be, sayed : It did him good to see there
were three hundred founde better in the cittie than him
selfe. Pisistratidas also being sent ambassadour with certen
other to the lieutenants of the king of Persia, the Persian
lordes asked him, if they came of their owne desire, or
whether they were sent from the whole state : If we obtaine,
sayed he, it is from the state : if we be denied, then we come
of our selves. And Argileonida the mother of Brasidas,
asked some that went to visite her after they were returned
home to Lacedaemon from their jomey to Amphipolis, if her
Sonne died like a man, and a worthy Spartan. And they
straight did commend him highely, saying : There was not
left in all Lacedaemon suche a valliant man. She replied
unto them : Saye not so, my friends, I praye you : for
Brasidas was in dede a valliant man, but the country of
Laconia hath many moe yet vallianter than he was. Now
touching their Senate : Lycurgus was the first that erected
154

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

it among them. The first that were thereof, were Lycurgus T.YCURGUS
chief ayders and assisters of that erection, as we have de-
clared before : but afterwards he ordeined, that when any The manner
of those first should happen to dye, they should choose in his "^ choosing
place the most honest reported man in the cittie, so he were the SenMe
three score yere olde and above. This was the noblest glorie ^
that could be among men, when a man bare the bell and
prise, not that he was swiftest among the swift, nor strongest
amongest the strong, but that he among the honest was
honestest. He had the reward of his vertue, as for libertie
to speake, soveraine authoritie to governe, and princely
power over the common weale, the honour, the life, and the
goodes of the whole cittizens : howbeit the election was made
after this sorte. The people first assembled in the market
place, where there were some appointed and shut up there-
about in a house, from whence they could neither see, nor be
scene of those that were assembled, but onely they might
heare the noyse which they made there. For the people by
their crye and showte, did declare whom they did choose,
and whom they did refuse of the competitours, as they used
to shewe their liking by the like crye in other things. The
competitours were not brought in, and presented all to-
gether, but one after another in order, as by lot did fall out.
He on whom the lot fell, passed through the middest of the
assemblie of the people, and sayed never a worde. The
people straight that liked, made a crye or showte alowde.
The men appointed which were locked up, had bookes or
tables in which they wrote and noted the greatnes of the
crye, and showte the people made, as every competitour
passed by, not knowing nor seing who he was. These
hidden men did onely set downe in their bookes, the first,
the second, the thirde, and so many more, as by showtes
and cryes they perceyved dyd passe thus through the
assemblie. They noted also in their said bookes, which of
these had the greatest crye and showte of people at their
passing thorough : and him they came and declared to be What was
Senatour chosen. Then he wearing a garland of flowers on done the
his head, went to all the temples of the goddes in the cittie bein<^^hosen.
to geve thankes, having a great traine of young men follow- *

155

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

LYCURGUS ing, and praysing of his vertues. There went also with him
a marvelous company of women singing songes of his prayse,
and howe blessed he was, that he had lived so vertuously.
Then every one of his kinne prepared a bancket for him at
home at their houses, and as he entred the house, they sayed
unto him : The cittie honoreth thee with this bancket.
That done, he repayred afterwards to the ordinarie place
of their eating, where he dyd in all things as he was accus-
tomed, saving he was served nowe at his table with a double
allowaunce, whereof he reserved the one. After supper, all
his kinsewomen stoode in the entrie of the hall where they had
eaten : so he called her whom he loved best, and gave her his
allowaunce he had saved, and sayed to her : This was geven
me in token I was this daye rewarded for my vertue : and even
so I geve it thee for a like token of rewarde for thy vertue.
Then was she brought home by all the women there to her
house, even in like sorte as he was by the men. Touching
burialles, Lycurgus made a wise order : For first of all, to
cut of all superstition of burying places, he commaunded they
The manner should burie their dead within the cittie, and that their graves
ofbunallwith should be round about their temples, that young persones
monia^ns * might have them allwayes in their eyes, and not be affrayed
to see a dead bodye, as if to touche a corse, or to passe by
their graves, it should defile a man. Then did he forbid
them to burie any thing with the corse, and willed they
should only lappe it up in a redde clothe, with olive leaves.
It was not lawfull to grave the name of any dead bodye
upon his grave, but only of suche a man as died in the
warres, or of some holy woman professed into their temples.
The time of Furthermore, the time appointed to mourne in, was very
mourning. shorte. For it lasted not but a eleven dayes, and on the
twelft daye, they must doe sacrifice to Proserpina, and so
leave of their mourning. To conclude, he left nothing idle,
or unworking in his cittizens : for to all necessarie things
which men can not lacke, Lycurgus joyned ever a certaine
emulation of men. As to desire vertue, and to contemne
vice : and furnished his cittie with many good preceptes and
examples, emong which his cittizens being still borne and
bred up, and having the same in every place before their eyes
156

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

where they went, they came to passe in time to be framed LYCURGUS
after the very patterne and moulde of vertue it selfe. For
this cause he did not suffer any to travell out of the countrie, None allowed
or to goe abroad as he would, without speciall licence, for to travell into
fcare least those which travelled abroad for their pleasure, trie^^without
should bring home straunge facions and manners, and a cor- licence,
rupt disordered life, which by litle and litle might get waye,
and bring an alteration and chaunge of the whole state.
Furthermore, he kept out of Sparta all straungers, except Nostraungers
those which had necessarie busines there, or were come thither suffered to
for some profit to the countrie: not that he was affrayed dwell in
they should learne some thing whereby to love vertue, or ^^^^ ^'
that they should desire to followe his facion and manner of
government as Thucydides was : but rather fearing they
should teache his cittizens some naughty manners, or some
ill favored vice. For it must needes be, that straungers
bring ever straunge and newe devises with them : which
newe devises bring with them also newe opinions : and
newe opinions beget newe affections and mindes, that many
times are repugnant to the lawe, and to the forme of the
common weale established before, as discordes doe many
times in an harmonic of musicke, that before agreed very
well together. Therefore he judged it a thing most neces-
sarie, to keepe his cittie free and safe from counterfeating of
any straungers manners or facions, that were commonly as
persones infected with some contagious sicknes. Nowe in
all we have spoken before, even to this place, there is no
manner of token or shewe of injustice, or lacke of equitie,
wherewith some seme to burden Lycurgus in his lawes : by say-
ing they were well made, to make men warlicke and valliant,
but not to be juste or righteous. But concerning the lawe Cryptia with
they call Cryptia^ as much to saye, as their secret : if it were of the Lacedse-
Lycurgus institution, as Aristotle sayeth, it might have "tomans,
caried Plato into the like opinion that Lycurgus had of his
common weale. This was the lawe : The governours which
had the charge and oversight of the young men, at certaine
appointed times, dyd chuse out those they thought to have
the best discretion, and sent them abroade into the countrie,
some one waye, some another waye, who caried with them

157

The cruelty
of the Lace-
daemonians
against the
liotes.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

LYCURGUS daggers, and some provision to feede them. These young
men being thus dispersed abroade in the countrie, did hide
them selves all the daye close in secret places, and there
they laye and tooke their rest : afterwardes when night was
come, they went to seeke out the high wayes, and killed the
first of the Ilotes that they met. Sometimes even in the
broade daye, they went into the countrie to kill the strongest
and stowtest of them : as Thucydides telleth in his history of
the warres of Peloponnesus, where he sayeth. That a cer-
taine convenient number of the Ilotes were crowned, by a
publicke proclamation of the Spartans : and being infran-
chesed, for their good services they had done the common
weale, they were caried to all the temples of the goddes for
an honour. Within a while after, no man knewe what was
become of them, being about two thousand in number : so
that never man heard tell neither then nor since, howe they
came to their deathes. Howbeit Aristotle above all others
sayeth, that the Ephores, so soone as they were placed in
their offices, made warres with the Ilotes, bicause they might
lawfully kill them. And it is true, that in other things
they did handle them very hardely. For they forced them
somtimes to drincke wine without water out of measure, till
they had made them starke drunke. Then they brought
them all into their common halles where they did eate, to
make their children to beholde them, and to see what beast-
lines it was for a man to be drunke. Likewise they made
them singe songes, and daunce daunces, unfit for honest men,
and suche as were full of derision and mockerie, and did
forbid them expressely to singe any honest songes. So it is
reported, that in the jorney the Thebans made to Laconia,
many of the Ilotes were taken prisoners thereat, and when
they were commaunded to singe the verses of Terpander, or
of Alcman, or of Spendon the Laconian, they would not doe
it : saying, they durst not singe them for their masters.
Wherefore he that first sayed in the countrie of Lacedae-
monia, he that is free is more free, and he that is bonde, is
more bonde then in other places : knewe very well the diver-
sitie betweene the libertie and bondage there, and the libertie
and bondage of other countries. But in my opinion, the
158

Diodorus
lib. 2.

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

Lacedaemonians beganne to use these great outrages and LYCURGUS
cruelties, long time after the death of Lycurgus, and specially
since the great earthquake that happened at Sparta, at which
cime the Ilotes rose against them with the Messenians, and
did great mischief through the countrie, and put the cittie
to the greatest distresse and daunger that ever it had. For I
cannot be persuaded, that ever Lycurgus invented, or insti-
tuted, so wicked and mischievous an acte, as that kynde of
ordinaunce was : bicause I imagine his nature was gentle and
mercif ull, by the clemencie and j ustice wee see he used in all
his other doings, and was witnessed besides by open oracle
from the goddes, for a just and wise man. Furthermore,
they saye of him, that when he sawe the chiefest pointes of
his government had taken deepe roote, and that the forme
of his common weale went on, and was strong enough to
mainteine and keepe it selfe a foote, like as Plato sayeth,
that God rejoyced greately after he had made the worlde, Plato in
and sawe the same turne and move his first moving : even so Timao.
Lycurgus taking singular pleasure and delight in his minde,
to see his notable lawes put in use, and so well stablished
and liked of by experience, sought yet to make them immor-
tall, as neere as he could possible, by any forecast of man,
that no after time whatsoever, might chaunge or put them
downe. To bring this to passe, he caused all the people to
assemble, and tolde them ne thought his civill pollicie and
state of common weale was already sufficiently established,
for vertuous and happy life : yet there was one matter
behinde of greater importance than all the rest, which he
could not yet declare unto them, untill he had first asked
counsell of the oracle of Apollo, And therefore in the
meane time they should keepe and observe his lawes and
ordinaunces inviolablie, without chaunging, remo\'ing, or
staying any matter therein, untill he were returned from the
cittie of Delphes, and then they should doe that other thing
behinde, if the God then so counselled him. They all Lycurgus
promised him to doe it, and prayed him to make hast to goe wonderfull
on his iomey. But before he departed, he made the Kings *^fH^v u- ^"
and Senatours sweare first, and consequently all the people jjjg lawes.
after, that they would keepe his lawes and ordinaunces

159

LYCURGUS

Lycurgus
death.

Sparta
florished five
hundi-ed
yeres.

Lycurgus
lawes were
broken in
king Agis
time, by
Lysanders
meanes.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

without chaunging or altering any thing, untill he did
returne againe. This done, he went to the cittie of Delphes,
where so sone as he arrived, he sacrificed in the temple to
Apollo, and asked him : If the lawes he had made were good
to make a man an happy life. Apollo made him aunswer,
his lawes were very good, and that his cittie keping them,
should be the most renowmed of the worlde. Lycurgus
caused this oracle to be written, which he sent to Sparta.
After he sacrificed to Apollo againe : and then taking leave
of his friendes, and of his sonne, he determined to dye, bicause
his cittizens should never be released of the othe they had
made betweene his handes. When he had this determina-
tion, he was come to the age, wherein a man hathe strength
enough to live lenger : and yet was olde enough also to dye
if he would. Wherefore finding him selfe happy to have
obteined his desire, he willingly pyned him selfe to death,
by abstinence, and lacke of meate. For he thought it
meete, that the very death of great personages should bring
benefit ever to. the common weale, and that the ende of their
life should be no more idle, or unprofitable, then the rest of
their life before : nay rather, that it was one of their most
meritorious actes, to have their death extolled for worthines.
So he imagined, that his death would be the perfection and
crowne of his felicitie, after he had made and ordeined so
many good and notable lawes, for the honour and benefit of
his countrie : and should be as k scale of confirmation of his
lawe, and the continuall preservitour of his cittie, consider-
ing all his cittizens had sworne to keepe them all inviolably,
untill he were returned. He was not deceaved of his hope,
for his cittie was the chiefest of the worlde, in glorie and
honour of government, by the space of five hundredyeres.
For so long his cittie kept his lawes~^4thotrtrany chaunge or
alteration by any of the Kings successours, untill king Agis,
the Sonne of Archidamus beganne to reigne. For the crea-
tion of the Ephores, did not breake, nor discontinewe any of
the lawes of Lycurgus, but reduced them rather to a more
straight and strickt order : although it seemed at the first
that the Ephores were ordeined, for the maintenaunce and
defence of the libertie of the people, whereas in deede they
160

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

did also strengthen the authoritie of the Kings and Senate. LYCURGUS
Nowe in the raigne of king Agis, gold and silver beganne Money cor-
first to creepe in againe to the cittie of Sparta, by meanes of rupteth Ly-
Lysander. With money there came in straight covetousnes, curgus lawes.
and gredines to get and gather. And although Lysander See more in
was not desirous to get it, nor would be corrupted for any Lysaudeis
money : yet he brought riches and covetousnes into the "*^'
countrie, and filled the same with all finenes, by bringing in Lysander
great store of golde and silver from the warres, directly brought in
against the lawes and ordinaunces of Lycurffus. The which f^^ | ^&^"^^
so long as they were in force and use, it appered that the
government of Sparta seemed not to be a pollicy or common
weale, but rather a certaine holy place and order of religion.
And even as the Poets fayne, that Hercules went through
the world with his clubbe, and lyons skynne, punishing cruell
robbers and unnaturall tyrannes : so in like case with a litle
scrowe of parchement, and a poore cape, did the Spartans
commaund and geve lawes, to all the rest of Grece, even
with their good liking and consent. And they chased the
tyrannes awaye, which usurped tyrannicall power over any
of their citties, and did decide all controversies, and often-
times pacified their seditions, without sending out one
souldier, but only a simple poore ambassadour. At whose
commaundement, the people presently assembled like the
bees, which gather together about their King, so soone as
they spye him : they did then so greatly reverence the good
government and justice of the Spartans. Therefore I can
but wonder much at those which saye, the cittie of Lace-
daemon could obey well, but not commaunde : and for proofe
they alleage wordes of king Theopompus, who aunswered
one which sayd, that Sparta was mainteined, bicause the
Kings could commaund well : Naye the rather (sayd he) Theopompus
bicause the cittizens can obey well. For men commonly wordes of
disdaine to obey those, which are not wise in commaunding. obeying and
So that the faithfuU obedience of the subjectes, dependeth ■
much upon the sufficient commaundement of the wise prince, r^ \
For he that directeth well, must needes be well obeyed. For j^^g^^. breed-
like as the arte of a good rider, is to make his horse gentle, eth due
and ready at commaundement : even so the chicfest pointe obedience.
X 161

LYCURGUS

Antisthenes,
Socrates
schollers
wordes.

The founda-
tion of a com-
mon weale.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

belonging to a prince, is to teach his subjects to obey.
Wherefore the Lacedaemonians procured, that not onely
other people did willingly obey them, but also desired to be
ruled, and commaunded by them. For they asked them,
neither shippes nor money, nor yet did send them any
number of men of warre to compell them, but onely they
sent one cittizen of Sparta to governe them, to whom all the
other people submitted them selves, and were holpen by him
in their necessitie, as fearing and reverencing him. In this
wise the Sicilians were holpen by Gysippus, the Chalcidians
by Brasidas, and all the Grecians inhabiting Asia, by Ly-
sander, Callicratidas, and by Agesilaus, who were called the
reformers and directors of princes, peoples, and Kings, unto
whom they were sent here and there : but ever they had
their eye upon the cittie of Sparta, as upon the most perfect
patterne to order mans life by, and to governe a common
weale after. To this effect tended the mery worde spoken
in jest by Stratonicus : Who said he did order the Athe-
nians to tend their sacrifices, and the Elians to tende their
games : and if they made any faulte therein, the Lacedae-
monians should be well whipped. That was merely spoken,
and in a jesting manner. But Antisthenes (the philosopher
and one of Socrates scholers) seeing the Thebans growen
very hawtie and glorious, after that they had conquered the
Lacedaemonians in the jorney of Leuctres : Me thinketh
sayed he, these Thebans here doe like the schoole boyes,
which bragge and rejoyce when they have a litle beaten
their master. But this was not Lycurgus meaning, to have
his cittie to commaunde many. But he thought the felicitie
of a cittie, as of a private man, consisted chiefly in the
exercise of vertue, and in the unitie of the inhabitants
thereof. He framed his common wealth to this ende, that
his cittizens should be nobly minded, content with their
owne, and temperate in their doings, that thereby they
might mainteine and keepe themselves long in safetie. The
self same intention had Plato, Diogenes, and Zenon, in
setting forth their bookes, which they wrote of the govern-
ment of common weales : and so had likewise many other
great and learned men which have ^vritten of the same
162

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

matter. Howbeit they only left behinde them, wordes, and LYCURGUS
written bookes : but Lycurgus contrariwise, left no written
bookes nor pamplets, but stablished and left behinde him, a
royall forme of government, which no man ever before had
invented, nor never after could be followed. He hath made
them plainely see, a whole cittie live together, and governe
it selfe philosophically, according to the true rules and pre-
ceptes of perfect wisdome : which imagined, that true wise-
dome was a thing hanging in the ayer, and could not visiblie
be scene in the worlde. Whereby he hath worthily excelled
in glorie all those, which ever tooke upon them to write or
stablishe the government of a common weale. And there-
fore sayeth Aristotle, that after his death they did him lesse
honour in Lacedaemonia, then he had deserved : albeit they
did him all the honour they possibly could devise. And yet
they buylt a temple for him, and made solemne sacrifice to
him every yere, as unto a god. More, they saye, that when Divine
the ashes of his bodie were brought to Sparta, there fell honours to
straight lightning upon his tumbe where they were put : Z^'^^g*^
which they had not often scene to happen, to other men of <jeath.
name after their decease, saving only to the poet Euripides,
who dying in Macedonia, was buried neere the cittie of
Arethusa. The which is some manifest argument, for suche
as love the Poet, to laye against those which somewhat
deprave him, seing this signe came to him after his death,
which had happened before to a most well beloved man of
the goddes. Some saye Lycurgus died in the cittie of
Cirrha. But Apollothemis sayeth, he died in Elida. Timaeus
and Aristoxenus write, he ended his dayes in Creta. And
Aristoxenus sayeth further, that those of the He of Creta
doe shewe his grave in the place which they call Pergamia,
by the broade highe wayes. He left one onely begotten
Sonne named Antiorus, who died without issue, so that his Antiorus
house and name fay led with him. But his neere kinsemen Lycurgus
and famillier friendes, did set up a company or brotherhood sonne.
in memorie of him, which continued a long time : and the
dayes wherein they assembled, were called the Lycurgides.
There is another Aristocrates (the sonne of Hipparchus) who
sayeth, that he being dead in Creta, his friendes burned his

163

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

LYCURGUS bodie, and aftervvardes threwe his ashes into the sea, accord-
ing as he had prayed and requested them. For he feared,
that if any parte of him should at any time have bene
brought to Sparta, the inhabitans would have sayed he was
returned againe, and thereby would have thought them selves
discharged of their othe, and might have lawfully
altered the lawes which he had appointed. And
this is the discourse and ende of Lycurgus life.

THE ENDE OF LYCURGUS LIFE

THE LIFE OF NUMA POMPILIUS

In what time
Numa was.
Cicerode Or. 2
and Tuscul. 4,
Liv. Halic.
lib. 2.

Whether
Pythagoras
had any con-
versation with
Numa.

HE Historiographers differ marvelously of
the time, in which Numa Pompilius
raigned King, albeit some will derive from
him many noble houses descended in Rome.
For one Clodius, who wrote the booke inti-
tuled the table of time, affirmeth that the
auncient registers of the cittie of Rome
were lost when it was taken and sacked by
the Gaules : and that those which are extant at this daye
be not true, but were only made by men desirous to gratifie
some, which have thrust in auncient houses and families of
the first Romaines, that concerne nothing them whom they
ment to represent. On the other side, although the common
opinion be, that Numa was a familier friend and schoUer of
Pythagoras the philosopher, yet some saye he was never
learned, nor had any knowledge at all in the Greeke tongue.
And yet mainteining that it is possible enovigh, that he was
so well borne, and had suche perfection in all kind of vertue,
that he never neded any master : and though he had neded,
they had rather attribute the honour of the instructing of
this King unto some other foreane person, that was more
excellent then Pythagoras. Other saye, that Pythagoras
the philosopher was long time after the raigne of Numa, and
well nighe five ages after him. Howbeit other saye, there
164

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

was another Pythagoras borne in Sparta (who having wonne NUMA
the pryse of running at the games Olympicall, in the six- POMPILIUS
tenth Olympiade, and the third yere of Numaes raigne) did Pji^hagoras
come into Italie, where he kept much about Numa, and did *^| seconde,
assist and helpe him in the governing and ordering of his ^orne^ taueht
Realme. By meanes whereof there be many customes yet of Numa, at
the Laconians, mingled with the Romaines, which this second Rome,
Pythagoras was sayed to have taught him. Nevertheles it is
not confessed that Numa was borne of the Sabynes, which
they saye are descended from the Lacedaemonians. So it
falleth out very hard to agree certainly of the time when
Numa was, and chiefly for suche as will foUowe the rolle or
table of those, which from Olympiades to Olympiades have
wonne the pryses of games Olympicall : considering tlie
rolle or table that they have at this present, was very lately
published by one Hippias an Elian, who delivereth no reason
or argument of necessitie, why it should be taken for an
undoubted trothe, which he in that sorte hath gathered.
Yet we will not leave to put in writing those things worthie
of memorie, which we could gather by any meanes of king
Numa, beginning at that place which we thought to be
meetest. It was no we sithence Rome was buy It, seven and
thirtie yeres (for so long time raigned Romulus) when
Romulus the fifte of the moneth of luly (which they call The death of
the Nones of the goates) made a solemne sacrifice without Romulus,
the cittie, neere to a certaine place commonly called, the
goate marshe. As all the whole Senate, with the most
parte of the people were present at this sacrifice, sodainely
there rose in the ayer a very great tempest, and a marvelous
darcke thicke clowde, which fell on the earthe with suche
boysterous windes, stormes, lightnings, and thunder: that
the poore common people being affrayed of so sore a tempest,
dispersed them selves sodainely, running here and there for
succour, and therewithall king Romulus vanished awaye in
suche sorte, that he was never after scene alive nor dead.
This brought the Senatours, and noble men whom they
called Patricians, into great suspition. And there ranne a
fowle tale among the common people, howe thev had a long
time borne very impaciently to be subjects to a King, bicause

1G5

NUMA
POMPILIUS

In the life of
Romulus he
is named Pro-
culus, f.

Dissention at
Rome about
choosing of
their King.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

them selves would have had and taken upon them some
soveraine authoritie, and that for this cause they had killed
king Romulus. Adding somewhat more unto it, howe a
litle before he had used them more roughely, and commaunded
them more straightly then he was wont or accustomed.
Nevertheles they found the meanes to quenche all these
bruites and murmurings, by doing divine honour and sacri-
fice unto him, as one not dead, but passed to a better life.
To confirme this, one of the noblest men among them called
Proclus came in, and by othe affirmed before all the people,
that he sawe Romulus ascending up into heaven, armed at
all peces, and that he heard a voyce saye : From henceforth
call him Quirinus. This being thus appeased, there sprange
up another trouble, to knowe whom they should choose in
his place. For the straungers which were come then from
other places to dwell in Rome, were not yet throughly joyned
to the naturall borne Romaines : in so muche, as the common
people dyd not only waver, and stagger up and down in
opinion, but the Senatours also (that were many and of divers
nations) did enter into a suspition one of another. These
things notwithstanding they all agreed in this, that of neces-
sitie they must choose a King : howbeit in the rest they
differed much, not only whom they should choose, but also
of what nation he should be. For those which were the first
founders and buylders of the cittie of Rome with Romulus,
could in no wise abide, nor suffer, that the Sabynes (to
whom they had divided parte of their landes, and a moytie
of their cittie) should attempt and presume to commaund
them, whom they dyd receyve and associate into their com-
pany and felowshippe. The Sabynes alledged on thother side
for them, a good reason, and such as caried great proba-
bilitie. Which was, that never sence the death of their
king Tatius, they neither had in any thing disobeyed nor
disquieted king Romulus, but had suffered him to raigne
peaceably : and therefore Romulus being nowe deceased,
reason would that the newe King should be chosen of their
nation. And that albeit the Romaines had receyved them
into their cittie, they could not say therefore, that in time
of this association, they were lesse to be reckoned of in any
166

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

thing, than them selves. Further they added, that in joyn- NUMA
ing with them, the Romaines had doubly increased their POMPILIUS
might and power, and had made a bodie of a people, which
deserved the honour and title of a cittie. These were the
causes of their contention. But to prevent that of this con-
tention there might growe no confusion in the cittie, if it
should remaine without an head to commaund : the Sena-
tours which were a hundred and fiftie in number, gave Livie sayeth
counsell that every one of them by turnes, one after another, but a hun-
should carie the royall state of the King, and all the showes *^^®*^-
and ornaments of his majestic, and should doe the ordinarie Dionysius
sacrifices of the King, and dispatche all causes sixe howers in
the daye, and sixe howers in the night, as the King before ^^"^,^5" "I
had used. Thus they thought it best to devide the rule, jjomuhis
that one might have asmuch power as the other, aswell in affreeth with
respect of them selves, as also for regarde of the people. Dionysius.
For they imagined, that the chaunging and removing thus
of this regall dignitie, and passing it from man to man,
would clene take awaye envie among them, and make every of
them to rule temperately, and uprightly see, that in one,
and the selfe same daye and night, every of them should be
a King and private persone also. The Romaines call this
manner of regiment in vacation, Interregnum : as you would interregnum.
saye, rule for the time. Nowe albeit their government was
very modest and civill, yet they could not for all that keepe
them selves from falling into the suspition, and slaunder of
the people : who gave it out straight, that this was a fine
devise of theirs, to chaunge by this meanes the rule of the
Realme into a fewe noble mens handes, to the ende that the
whole authoritie and government of all publicke causes,
should remaine still in them selves, bicause it grieved them
to be subject to a King. And in the ende, the two partes
of the cittie came to this agreement : that the one parte
should choose one of the bodie of the other, to be the King.
This course they liked very well, aswell for the pacification
of present sturre and dissention amongest them selves, as for
procuring equalitie of affection, and sturring up a likenes of
goodwill in the King that thus indifferently should be chosen :
whereby he should love the one parte for that they had

167

NUMA
POMPILIUS

Numa chosen

King.

Numa borne
in the cittie
of Cures.

Quirites why
so called.

The life and
manners of
Numa before
his raigne.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

chosen him, and likewise the other parte for that he was of
their nation. The Sabynes were the first, which referred
the election to the Romaines choyse : and the Romaines
thought it better to chuse one of the nation of the Sabynes,
then to have a Romaine chosen by the Sabynes. After they
had consulted, they determined amongest them selves : and
did choose Numa Pompilius one of the bodye of the Sabynes
to be King, who was none of the number of them which
came to dwell at Rome, howbeit he was a man so famous for
his vertue, that the Sabynes so soone as they named him,
did receyve him more willingly, then they who had chosen
him. After they had thus published their election, the first
and chiefest persones of the one and the other side, were
chosen out to goe unto him. Now Numa Pompilius was
borne in one of the chiefest and best citties which the
Sabynes had, called Cures, whereupon the Romaines, and
their fellowes the Sabynes, were called afterwardes Quirites,
and he was the sonne of Pomponius a noble man, the
youngest of foure brethern : being by the secret worcking of
the goddes, borne on the very daye,on the which Rome was first
founded by Romulus, which was the one and twenty daye of
Aprill. This man being naturally geven and inclined unto
all vertue, did yet increase the same, by studie, and all kynde
of good discipline : and by the exercise thereof, and of true
pacience, and right philosophic, he did marvelously adorne
him selfe and his manners. For he did not only clere his
soule, and minde, of all passions and vices commonly used in
the worlde : but he conquered in him selfe all heates, vio-
lence, and covetousnes. And would neither seeke nor usurpe,
that which was an other mans, a thing at that time honoured
among the most barbarous people : but thought that to be
the true, and right victorie in man, first to conquer and
commaund him selfe by judgement and reason, and then to
subdue all covetousnes and greedines. Having therfore this
opinion, he would in no wise have in his house any super-
fluity or finenes. He became to every man that would
employe him (aswell straunger as his owne countrie man) a
wise counsaillour, and an upright judge. He bestowed his
leysure, not to followe his owne delight, or to gather goods
168

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

together : but to serve the goddes, and to behold their NUMA
celestiall nature and power, as much as mans reason and POMPILIUS
understanding could comprehend. Thereby he got so great a
name and reputation, that Tatius (which was king of Rome
with Romulus) having but one onely daughter called Tatia, Tatia the
made him his sonne in lawe. Howbeit this mariage put him wifeof Numa.
in no such jolity, that he would dwel at Rome with his father
in lawe, but rather kept at home at his own house in the
countrie of the Sabynes, there to serve and cherishe his olde
father with his wife Tatia : who for her parte also liked better,
to live quietly with her husband being a private man, then to
goe to Rome where she might have lived in much honour
and glorie, by meanes of the King her father. She died as
it is reported, 13 yeres after she was maried. After her
deathe, Numa leaving to dwell in the cittie, was better
contented to live in the country alone, and solitarie, and gave
him self to walke much in the fields and woddes consecrated
to the godds, as one desirous to leade alone life, farre from the
companie of men. Wherupon Avas raised (in my opinion) that
which is spoken of him, and of the goddesse Egeria. That
it was not for any straungenes, or melancholines of nature,
that Numa withdrew him self from the conversation and com-
pany of men, but bicause he had found another more honor-
able and holy society of the Nymphe, and goddesse Egeria, Numa con-
who had done him, as they saye, that honour, as to make him versant with
her husband : with whom as his beloved darling it is sayed he j^^g^^ ^^^^
enjoyed happy dayes, and by dayly frequenting of her com-
pany, he was inspired with the love and knowledge of all celes-
tiall things. Surely, these devises are much like unto certain
old fables of the Phrygians, which they having learned from the
father to the sonne, doe love to tell of one Atis : of the Bithyn-
ians, of one Herodotus : of the Arcadians, of one Endymion :
and of many other such like men, who in their lives were taken
for sayntes, and beloved of the goddes. Notwithstanding, it
is likely, that the goddes love neither birdes, nor horse, but
men, and have sometimes a liking to be familliar with perfect
good men, and doe not disdaine sometime the conversation Goddes
of suche as be holye, religious, and devoute. But to beleeve familher with
the goddes have carnall knowledge, and doe delight in the "^^°"
Y 169

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

NUMA outward beavvtie of creatures, that seemeth to carie a very
POMPILIUS harde beliefe. Yet the wise Egyptians thincke it probable
enough and likely, that the spirite of the goddes hath geven
originall of generation to women, and doe beget fruite of
their bodies : howbeit they holde that a man can have no
corporall companie with any divine nature. Wherein they
doe not consider, that every thing that joyneth together,
doth deliver againe a like substaunce, to that wherewith it
was joyned. This notwithstanding, it is mete we should
beleeve the godds beare good will to men, and that of it
doth spring their love, whereby men saye the goddes love
those whose manners they purifie, and inspire with vertue.
And they doe not offende, which fayne that Phorbas,
Hyacinthus and Admetus, were sometimes the lovers of
Apollo, and also Hippolytus the Sicyonian : of whom they
reporte, that ever when he passed over the arme of the sea
which lieth betweene the citties of Sicyona, and of Cirrha,
the god which knewe he came, rejoyced, and caused Pythia
the prophetesse to pronounce these heroycall verses,

I knowe full well, my deare Hippolytus,
returnes by sea, my minde divineth thus.

Who are be- It is sayd also that Pan was in love with Pindarus and his
AA ^^ *^^ verses, and that the goddes honored the poets Hesiodus, and

^^ ^^' Archilocus, after their death by the Muses. They saye

moreover, that ^Esculapius laye with Sophocles in his life
time, and at this daye they doe yet showe many tokens
thereof: and after his death, another god (as it is reported)
made him to be honorably buried. Nowe if they graunte,
that such things maye be true : how can we refuse to beleeve,
that some goddes have bene familliar with Zaleucus, Minos,
Zoroastres, Lycurgus, Numa, and such other like personages,
which have governed kingdomes, and stablished common
weales ? and it is not unlike that the goddes in deede dyd
company with them, to inspire and teache them many
notable things, and that they did drawe neere unto these
Poets, and players of the harpe, that made and played many
dolefuU and joyfuU ditties, at the least for their sporte and
pleasure onely, if ever they came neere them. Nevertheles
170

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

if any man be of other opinion, the waye is open and large as NUMA
Bacchylides sayed, to thincke and saye as he lust. For my POMPILIUS
selfe I doe finde, that which is written of Lycurgus, Numa,
and other suche persones, not to be without likelyhood and
probabilitie : who having to governe rude, churlishe, and
stifFe necked people, and purposing to bring in straunge
novelties into the governments of their countries, did fayne
wisely to have conference with the godds, considering this
fayning fell to be profitable and beneficiall to those them
selves, whom they made to beleeve the same. But to
returne to our historic. Numa was fourty yeres olde, when
the ambassadours of Rome were sent to present the King-
dome unto him, and to intreate him to accept thereof.
Proclus, and V'elesus, were the ambassadours that were sent. Proclus and
One of the which the people looked should have bene chosen Velesus am-
r xr- u- 4-1 t r> 1 -J J- J c I, bassadours to

tor Knig, bicause those oi Komulus side, did lavour muche ^^^j. ^^^^^

Proclus : and those of Tatius parte favored Velesus, Nowe the kingdom,
they used no long speache unto him, bicause they thought
he would have bene glad of suche a great good fortune. But
contrarely it was in deede a very hard thing, and required
great persuasions, and much intreatie, to move a man which
had all way es lived quietly, and at ease, to accept the regi-
ment of a cittie, which as a man would saye, had bene raysed
up and growen by warres, and martiall dedes, Wherfore
he aunswered them in the presence of his father, and one
other of his kinsemen called Martins in this sorte : Chaunge The oration
and alteration of mans life is ever daungerous : but for him ^J^^""?**,'|
that lacketh nothing necessarie, nor hath cause to complaine doursreftisina'
of his present state, it is a great follie to leave his olde to be King,
acquainted trade of life, and to enter into another newe
and unknowen, if there were no other but this only respect :
that he leaveth a certaintie, to venter upon an uncertainty.
Howbeit there is further matter in this, that the daungers
and perills of this kingdom which they offer me, are not
altogether uncertain, if we wil looke backe what happened
unto Romulus. Who was not unsuspected to have layed
waite, to have had Tatius his fellow and companion mur-
dered : and now after Romulus death, the Senatours selves
are mistrusted to have killed him on the other side by

171

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

NUMA treason. And yet they saye it, and singe it every where :
POMPILIUS that Romulus was the sonne of a god, that at his birthe he
was miraculously preserved, and afterwardes he was as in-
crediblie brought up. Whereas for my owne parte, I doe
confesse, I was begotten by a mortall man, and was fostered,
brought up, and taught by men as you know : and these fewe
qualities which they prayse and commend in me, are condi-
tions farre unmete for a man that is to raigne. I ever loved
a solitarie life, quiet and studie, and did exempt my selfe
from worldly causes. All my life time I have sought and
loved peace above all things, and never had to doe with any
warres. My conversation hath bene to companie with men,
which meete only to serve and honour the goddes, or to
laughe and be merie one with another, or els to spende their
time in their private affayers, or otherwise sometime to
attend their pastures, and feeding of their cattell. Whereas
Romulus (my Romaine lordes) hath left you many warres
begonne, which peradventure you could be contented to
spare : yet now to mainteine the same, your citie had neede
of a martiall King, active, and strong of bodye. Your
people moreover, through long custome, and the great
increase they are geven unto by feates of amies, desire
nought els perhappes but warres : and it is plainely scene,
they seeke still to growe, and commaund their neighbours.
So that if there were no other consideration in it, yet were it
a mere mockerie for me, to goe to teache a cittie at this
present to serve the goddes, to love justice, to hate warres,
and to flye violence : when it rather hath neede of a conquer-
ing captaine, then of a peaceable King. These and suche
other like reasons and persuasions Numa alleaged, to dis-
charge him selfe of the Kingdome which they offred him.
Howljeit the ambassadours of the Romaines most humbly
besought and prayed him with all instance possible, that he
would not be the cause of another newe sturre, and com-
motion among them, seeing both partes in the cittie have
geven their consent and liking to him alone, and none other
to be their King. Moreover, when the ambassadours had
left him upon this sute, his father, and Martins his kinseman,
beganne also privately to perswade him, that he should not
172

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

refuse so good and godly an offer. And albeit he was con- NUMA

tented with liis present state, and desired to be no richer POMPILIUS

than he was, nor coveted no princely honour nor glorie,

bicause he sought only most famous vertue : yet he must

needes thincke, that to rule well, was to doe the goddes good

service, whose will it was to employe the justice they knewe

in him, and not to suffer it to be idle. Refuse not therefore

(quoth they) this royall dignitie, which to a grave and wise

man is a goodly field, to bring forth many commendable

workes and fruites. There you maye doe noble service to the

godds, to humble the heartes of these martiall people, and to

bring them to be holy and religious : for they readely tume,

and easely conforme them selves unto the nature of their

prince. They dearely loved Tatius, although he was a

straunger : they have consecrated a memorie to Romulus

with divine honours, which they make unto him at this daye.

And it maye be, that the people seeing them selves con-

querers, will be full enough of warres : and the Romaines

being nowe full of spoyles and triumphes, will be glad to

have a gentle prince, and one that loveth justice, that they

maye thenceforth live in peace, under good and holy lawes.

And yet if it be otherwise, that their hartes be still full of

heate and furie to fight : is it not better to turne this their

desire to make warres some other waye, when a man hathe

the bridle in his owne handes to doe it, and to be a meane in

the meane time to joyne the countrie, and all the nation of

the Sabynes, in perpetuall love and amitie, with so mighty

and florishing a cittie ? besides all these persuasions and

reasons, there were many signes also (as they saye) which

promised him good lucke, together with the earnest affection

and liking of his owne countrie cittizens. Who, so soone as

they understoode the coming, and commission of the ambas-

sadours of Rome, tliey importunately desired him to goe

thither, and to accept the offer of the Kingdome : that he

might more straightly unite and incorporate them together

with the Romaines. ^Vhereupon, Numa accepted the King- N^uma begiu-

dome. Then after he had done sacrifice to the goddes, he \'^*^ his kmg-

„ 1 !•• 1-r. 11 dome with

set lorwardes on his journey towardes Rome: wliere the sen-ice of tlie

people and Senate went out to meete him, with a wonderfull goddes.

173

NUMA
POMPILIUS

Numa was
consecrated
by the
Augures.

The garde of
Celeres dis-
charged by
Numa.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

desire to see him. The women at his entrie, went blessing
of him, and singing of his prayses. They dyd sacrifice for
him, in all the temples of the goddes. There was neither
man nor woman but seemed to be as joyfull and glad : as if a
newe Realme, and not a newe Kinge, had bene come to the
cittie of Rome, Thus was he brought with this open joye,
and rejoycing, unto the market place, where one of the
Senatours, which at that time was regent, called Spurius
Vettius, made them pronounce his open election : and so
by one consent he was chosen King, with all the voyces of
the people. Then were brought unto him the tokens of
honour and dignitie of the King. But he him selfe com-
maunded they should be stayed a while, saying : He must
first be confirmed King by the goddes. Then he tooke the
wise men and priests, with whom he went up into the Capitoll,
which that time was yet called mounte Tarpeian. And there,
the chiefest of the soothesayers called Augures, turned him
towardes the southe, having his face covered with a veyle,
and stoode behinde him, laying his right hande upon his
heade, and praying to the goddes that it would please them
to declare their willes by flying of birdes, or some other
token concerning this election : and so the soothesayer cast
his eyes all about, as farre as he could possiblie d^iscerne.
During all this time there was a marvelous silence in the
market place, although then an infinite number of people
were assembled there together, attending with great devotion
what the issue of this divination would be : untill there
appeared unto them on the right hande, good and lucky
birdes, which did confirme the election. Then Numa putting
on his regall robes, came downe from mounte Tarpeian, into
the market place, where all the people receyved him with
wonderfull showtes of joye, as a man the most holy, and best
beloved of the goddes that they could have chosen. So
having taken the royall seate of the Kingdome, his first acte
was this. That he discharged the garde of the three hundred
souldiers, which Romulus had allwayes about his persone,
called Celeres : saying, he would not mistrust them which
trusted him, neither would he be King over people, which
should mistrust him. His second acte was, that he did adde
174

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

to the two priests of lupiter and Mars, a thirde, in the NUMA
honour of Romulus, who was called Flamen Quirinalis. For POMPILIUS
the auncient Romaines also called their priests, instituted in Flamen
the olde time, Flamines, by reason of certaine litle narrowe Quirinalis
hattes which they did weare on their heades, as if they had of^j^u^na**
called them Pilamines : for Pilos in Greeke signifieth a hatte.
And at that time (as they saye) there were many moe Greeke
wordes mingled with the Latine, then there are at this daye.
For they called the mantells the Kings did weare Loenas.
And luba sayeth that it is the very same which the Grecians
call Chlce7ias, and that the younge boye which was a servaunte
in the temple of lupiter, was called Camillus, as some of the
Grecians doe yet call the god Mercuric, bicause he is servaunt
of the godds. Now Numa having done these things at his
first entrie into his Kingdome, still to winne further favour
and goodwill of the people : beganne immediately to frame
his cittizens to a certaine civilitie, being as iron wrought to Numa induc-
softenes, and brought them from their violent and warlike eth civill and
desires, to temperate and civill manners. For out of doubt, ^"'^*
Rome was properly that, which Plato ascribeth to a cittie Plato de Rep.
full of trouble and pryde. For, first it was founded by the ^'
most coragious and Avarlike men of the worlde, which from
all partes were gathered there together, in a most desperate
boldnes : and afterwards it increased, and grewe strong, by
armes and continuall warres, like as pyles driven into the
grounde, which the more they are rammed in, the further
they enter, and sticke the faster. Wherefore Numa judging
it no small nor light enterprise, to plucke downe the hawty
stomacks of so fierce and violent a people, and to frame them
unto a sobre and quiet life : dyd seeme to worcke it by
meanes of the goddes, with drawing them on thereto by litle
and litle, and pacifying of their whotte and fierce corages to
fight, with sacrifices, feastes, dauncings, and common proces-
sions, wherein he celebrated ever him selfe. In the which
together with their devotion, there was mingled nowe and
then, pastime and pleasure : and sometimes he layed the
terrour and feare of the goddes before their eyes, making
them beleeve that he had seene straunge visions, or that he
had heard voyces, by which the goddes dyd threaten them

175

Numa and
Pythagoras
institutions
muche a like.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

NUMA witli some great troubles and plagues, allwayes to pull downe
POMPILIUS and humble their heartes, unto the feare of the goddes.
This was the cause why they thought afterwardes that he
had learned his wisdome of Pythagoras the philosopher :
bicause the greatest parte of the philosophic of the one, and
of the government of the other, consisted in suche ceremonies,
and divine studies. They reporte also that Numa dyd put
on the outwarde showe and semblaunce of Pythagoras holi-
nes, as following his intention and example. For Pythagoras
as they saye, made an eagle so tame and gentle, that she
would stoupe, and come downe to him by certaine voyces, as
she flewe in the ayer over his head. And that passing
through the assembly of the games Olympicall, he shewed
her thighe of golde, and many other prety feates and deedes
they tell of, which seemed to be wonderfull, and for which
Timon Phliasian hath written these verses of him :

Pji;hagoras which loved to dwell in dignitie,

and had an harte to glorie bent, and past in pollecie,

Muche like a man which sought, by charming to enchaunte,

did use this arte, to winne mens mindes, which unto him did hauute.

His grave and pleasaunt tongue, in sugred speache did flowe,

whereby he drewe most mindes of men, to bent of his owne bowe.

Even so the fayned fable of Numa, which he so cunningly
disguised, was about the love of a goddesse, or some Nymphe
of the mountaine : with whom he seemed to have certaine
secret meetings and talke, whereof we have spoken before.
And it is sayed he muche frequented the Muses in the woddes.
For he would saye, he had the most parte of his revelations
of the Muses, and he taught the Romaines to reverence one
of them above all the rest, who was called Tacita, as ye
would saye, ladye silence. It seemeth he invented this, after
the example of Pythagoras, who did so specially commaund,
and recomend silence unto his schollers. Againe, if we con-
sider what Numa ordeined concerning images, and the repre-
sentation of the goddes, it is alltogether agreable unto the
doctrine of Pythagoras : who thought that god was neither
sensible, nor mortall, but invisible, incorruptible, and only
intelligible. And Numa dyd forbid the Romaines also to
beleeve, that god had ever forme, or likenes of beast or man.

176

Numa wor-
shipped Tacita
one of the

Muses.

Pythagoras
taught his
schollers to
kepe silence.

Pythagoras
opinion of
God.

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

So that in those former times, there was in Rome no image of NUMA
god, either painted or graven : and it was from the beginning POMPILIUS
a hundred three score and tenne yeres, that they had buylt Numa for-
temples and chappels unto the godds in Rome, and yet there l^^d images
was neither picture nor image of god within them. For ^ ** *
they tooke it at the first for a sacriledge, to present heavenly
things by earthely formes : seeing we cannot possibly any
waye attaine to the knowledge of god, but in minde and
understanding. The very sacrifices which Numa ordeined,
were altogether agreable, and like unto the manner of serving
of the goddes, which the Pythagorians used. For in their
sacrifices they spilt not the bloude, but they did theirs
commonly, with a litle meale, a litle sheading of wine and
milke, and with suche other light things. Suche as affirme
that those two men did much company and were famillier
together, doe laye further proofes and arguments for the
same. The first is this : That the Romaines did make Proofes for
Pythagoras a free man of the cittie of Rome, as Epicharmus the conversa-
the Comicall poet an auncient writer (and sometimes one of *^°? p^J)^!^"^'^
Pythagoras schollers) sayeth in a booke he wrote and dedi- ^^ras ^
cated unto Antenor. The other proofe is : That Numa
having had foure children, called one of them Mamercus,
after Pythagoras sonnes name, from whom they saye is
discended, the house of the ^Emylians, which is the noblest
of the Patricians : for the King gave him the surname of
iEmylius, bicause of his sweete tongue and pleasaunt voyce.
Furthermore, I my self have heard saye many times in Rome,
that the Romaines having receyved an oracle, which com-
maunded them to set up images in their cittie, to the wisest
and valliantest man that ever was amongest the Grecians :
caused two statues of brasse to be set up in their market
place, the one of Pythagoras, and the other of Alcibiades.
Howbeit to strive about this matter any further, seeing
there are so many doubtes : me thincketh it were but vaine.
Moreover, they attribute to Numa, the first erection of the Numa in-
colledge pontificall : and saye he him selfe was the first stjtuteth
Pontifex that ever was. But touching the name of Pontifex, ^i^hoppes.
some will saye they were so called, bicause they chiefly were Pontifices
ordeined and appointed for the service of the almightie : for ^^^y so called.
Z 177

NUMA
POMPILIUS

The wodden
bridge at
Rome.

The highe
bishoppe.

The institu-
tion of the
Vestall
Nunnes.

The holy and
immortal fire.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

this word Potens in the Romaine tongue, betokeneth mightie.
Other thineke this name was geven to them by their founders,
as to exempt persones out of the worlde : who enjoyned them
to doe all the service and sacrifices to the goddes they could
possibly, and yet notwithstanding, if they had any other
lawfull let or impediment thereof, they were not straight
condemned for omitting the same. Howbeit the most parte
doe bring out another derivation of this name, wherein
me thinckes there is litle reason. As that they should be
called Pontifices, bicause they had the charge of maintenaunce
of the bridge. For that which the Grecians call Gephyran^
the Latines call Pontem : that is, ' a bridge.' And to saye
truely, the charges of repairing the bridge, belongeth to
the bishoppes : aswell as the keeping of the most holy
and unchaungeable ceremonies. For the Romaines thought
it not only a thing unlawfull, but tooke it for a most
damnable and wicked acte, to destroye or breake the bridge
of wodde, which was only joyned together (as they saye)
with pinnes of wodde, and without any iron at all, by the
commaundement of an olde oracle. But the stone bridge
was buylt long time after the raigne of Numa, and in the
time of the raigne of his nephewe Martins. Nowe the first
and chiefest of these bishoppes, which they call the great
Pontifex, hath the place, authoritie, and dignitie of the
highe prieste and master, of their pontificall lawe : who
should be carefull, not only about all publicke sacrifices
and ceremonies, but also about suche as were private, and
to see that no man privately should breake the auncient
ceremonies, nor bring in any newe thing into religion, but
rather every man should be taught by him, how, and after
what sorte he should serve and honour the goddes. He also
hath the keping of the holy virgines which they call Vestales.
For they doe geve Numa the first foundation and consecrat-
ing of them, and the institution also of keeping the im-
mortall fire with honour and reverence, which these virgines
have the charge of. Either for that he thought it meete to
commit the substaunce of fire (being pure and cleane) unto
the custodie of cleane and uncorrupt maydes : or els bicause
he thought the nature of fire (which is barren, and bringeth
178

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

forth nothing) was fittest, and most proper unto virgines. NUMA
For in Grece, where they kept continuall fire likewise (as POMPILIUS
in the temple of Apollo in Delphes, and at Athens) the
maydens doe not keepe the same, but olde women which
are past mariage. And if this fire chaunce to faile, as they
saye in Athens the holy lampe was put out in the time of
the tyrannic of Aristion : and in the cittie of Dclphcs it was
put out, when the temple of Apollo was burnt by the Medes :
and at Rome also, in the time of the warrcs that the
Romaines had against king Mithridates : and in the time
of the civill warres, when altar, fire, and all were burnt and
consumed together : they saye that it must not be lighted
againe with other common fire, but must be made a newe,
with drawing cleane and pure flame from the beames of the
sunne, and that they doe in this manner. They have a How the holy
hollowe vessell made of a pece of a triangle, having a corner fire is drawen
right, and two sides a like : so that from all partes of his ^^^ the pure
compasse and circumference, it falleth into one pointe. Then gunjjg
they set this vessell right against the beames of the sunne,
so that the bright sunne beames come to assemble and gather
together in the center of this vessell, where they doe pearce
the ayer so strongely, that they set it a fire : and when they
put to it any drye matter or substaunce, the fire taketh it
straight, bicause the beame of the sunne, by meanes of the
reverberation, putteth that drye matter into fire, and forceth
it to flame. Some thincke that these Vestall virgines keepe
no other thing, but this fire, which never goeth out. Other
saye, there are other holy thinges also, which no bodie maye
lawfully see but they : whereof we have written more largely
in the life of Camillus, at the least so much as maye be learned See the life
and tolde. The first maydens which were vowed and put into ^^ Camillus
this order of religion by Numa, were (as they saye) Gegania, Vestalf^ ^
and Verenia : and after them, Canuleia and Tarpeia. After- Nunnes.
wardes king Servius increased the number with two other, and
that number of foure continueth untill this daye. Their rule
and order set downe by king Numa was this : that they should The order
vowe chastitie for the space of thirtie yeres. In the first tenne ^PP"^^/'^^ *^^
yeres they learne what they have to doe : the next tenne j^u^^^^ ^ ^
yeres following, they doe that which they have learned : and

179

NUMA
POMPILIUS

The Vestalls
prerogatives.

The punish-
ment of the
Vestall
Nunnes.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

the last tenne yeres, they teache young novices. After they
have passed their thirtie yeres, they maye lawfully marie if
they be disposed, and take them to another manner of life,
and leave their religion. But as it is reported, there have
bene very fewe of them which have taken this libertie, and
fewer also which have joyed after they were professed, but
rather have repented them selves, and lived ever after a very
grievous and sorowfull life. This did so fraye the other
Vestalls, that they were better contented with their vowed
chastitie : and so remained virgines, untill they were olde, or
els died. He gave them also great priviledges, and preroga-
tives. As : to make their will and testament, in their
fathers life time. To doe all things without any gardian
or overseer, as women which have three children at a birth.
When they goe abroade, they carie maces before them to
honour them. And if by chaunce they meete any offendour
in their waye, going to execution, they save his life : howbeit
the professed Vestall must affirme by othe, that she met him
unwares, and not of set purpose. If any man presume
under their chayer, whereupon they are caried through the
cittie, he shall die for it. Also when they them selves doe
any faulte, they are corrected by the great byshoppe, who
somtimes doth whippe them naked (according to the nature
and qualitie of their offence) in a darcke place, and imder a
curten. But she that hath deflowred her virginity, is buried
quicke by one of the gates of the cittie, which they call
Collina gate : where within the cittie there is a mount of
earth of a good length, and with the Latines is sayed to be
raised. Under this forced mount, they make a litle hollowe
vawte, and leave a hole open, whereby one maye goe downe :
and within it there is set a litle bed, a burning lampe, and
some vitells to susteine life withall. As a litle bread, a litle
water, a litle milke, and a litle oyle, and that for honours
sake : to the ende they would not be thought to famishe a
bodie to deathe, which had bene consecrated by the most holy
and devoute ceremonies of the worlde. This done, they take
the offender, and put her into a litter, which they cover
strongely, and close it up with thicke leather in suche sorte,
that no bodie canne so much as heare her voyce, and so they
180

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

carie her thus shut up through the market place. Every one NUMA
draweth backe, when they see this litter a farre of, and doe POMPILIUS
geve it place to passe by : and then follow it mourningly,
with heavy lookes, and speake never a word. They doe
nothing in the citie more fearefuU to behold, then this :
neither is there any daye wherein the people are more
sorowful, then on such a daye. Then after she is come to
the place of this vawte, the sergeants straight unlose these
fast bounde coverings : and the chiefe byshoppe after he
hath made certen secret prayers unto the godds, and lift his
handes up to heaven, taketh out of the litter, the condemned
Vestall muffled up close, and so putteth her upon the ladder,
which conveyeth her downe into the vawte. That done, he
withdraweth, and all the priestes with him : and when the
seely ofFendour is gone downe, they straight plucke up the
ladder, and cast aboundance of earthe in at the open hole,
so that they fill it up to the very toppe of the arche. And
this is the punishment of the Vestalls which defile their
virginitie. They thincke also it was Numa that buylt the
round temple of the goddesse Vesta, in which is kept the
everlasting fire : meaning to represent not the forme of the
earth, which they saye is Vesta, but the figure of the whole
world, in the middest whereof (according to the Pythagorians The temple of
opinion) remaineth the proper seate and abiding place of Vesta repre-
fire, which they call Vesta, and name it the unitie. For senteth the
they are of opinion, neither that the earth is unmoveable, ^^orj^p
nor yet that it is set in the middest of the world, neither ^y, ,
that the heaven goeth about it : but saye to the contrarie, ^re abideth.
that the earth hanged in the ayer about the fire, as about
the center thereof. Neither will they graunte, that the earth
is one of the first and chiefest partes of the world : as Plato
helde opinion in that age, that the earthe was in another
place then in the very middest, and that the center of the
world, as the most honorablest place, did apperteine to some
other of more worthy substaunce than the earthe. Further-
more, the byshoppes office was to show those that needed to
be taught, all the rites, manners, and customes of buriall : The manner
whom Numa taught not to beleeve that there was any cor- of buriall.
ruption or dishonesty in burialles, but rather it was to

181

NUMA
POMPILIUS

Libitina
honored at
funeralls.

The time of
mourning.

Salii,Feciales.
Pluta. Prohl.
62. Gell. lib.
16. c. 4.

Feciales
called Ireno-
phylaces.

Irenen :
a quarrell
pacified with
reason, with-
out the sword.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

worshippe and honour the godds of the earthe, with usuall
and honorable ceremonies, as those which after their death
receyve the chiefest service of us that they canne. But
above all other in burialles, they did specially honour the
goddesse called Libitina, that is sayed, the chiefe governour
and preserver of the rites of the dead : or be it Prosperina,
or Venus, as the most learned men among the Romaines doe
judge, who not without cause doe attribute the order of the
beginning and ende of mans life, to one self god, and power
divine, Numa ordained also, how long time every bodie
should mourne in blackes. And for a childe from three
yeres to tenne yeres of age, that died : he ordeined they
should mourne no more monethes then it had lived yeres,
and not to adde a daye more. For he commaunded, that
the longest time of mourning should be but ten moneths
onely, and so long time at the least he willed women should
remaine widdowes, after the decease of their husbands : or els
she that would marie within that time, was bounde by his
order to sacrifice a whole bullocke. Numa also erected
many other orders of priestes : of two sortes whereof I will
only make mention. The one shalbe the order of the Salii,
and the other of the Feciales : for me thinckes, both the one
and the other doth manifestly showe the great holines, and
singular devotion which he had in him. The Feciales are
properly those, which the Grecians call Irenophylaces, as who
would saye, peacekeepers. And in my judgement, they
had their right name according to their office, bicause they
did pacific quarells with reason by waye of order, and did
not suffer (as much as in them laye) that any matter should
be tried by violence, untill they were past all hope of any
peace. For the Grecians call it properly Irenen, when both
parties agree, and decide their controversie with reason, and
not with sworde. Even so those which the Romaines called
the Feciales, went many times in persone to those that dyd
the Romaines injurie, and sought to persuade them with
good reason, to keepe promise with the Romaines, and to
offer them no wrong. But if they would not yeld to reason,
whom they sought to persuade : then they called the goddes
to the witnes thereof, and prayed them, that if they dyd not
182

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

most earnestly incense the Romaines, to pursue that most NUMA
justely apperteined unto their right, that all evills and POMPILIUS
mischieves of the warres might fall upon them selves, and on
their countrie. This done, they dyd threaten open warres
against such enemies. And if the Feciales would not consent
to open warres, and dyd happen to speake against them : it
was not lawfull in that case, neither for private persone, nor
for the King him selfe to make any warres. But like a just
prince, he must have leave by their sufferance to make the
warres. Then dyd he consider, and consult, by what meanes
he might best procure, and prosecute the same. Concerning
this matter, they judge that the ill happe which came to the
Romaines, when the cittie of Rome was taken and sacked by
the Gaules, chaunced justely for breaking of this holy institu-
tion. For at that time, the barbarous people besieged the
cittie of the Clusinians : and Fabius Ambustus was sent
ambassadour unto them, to see if he could make peace
betweene them. The barbarous people gave him an ill
aunswer : whereupon Fabius thincking his embasie had bene
ended, and being somwhat whotte, and rashe in defence of
the Clusinians, gave defiaunce to the valliantest Gaule there,
to fight with him man to man. Fortune favored him in this
chalenge : for he slew the Gaule, and stripped him in the
fielde. The Gaules seeing their man slayne, sent immediately
an heraulde to Rome, to accuse Fabius, howe against all
right and reason, he beganne warres with them, without any
open proclamation made before. The Feciales being then
consulted with thereabout, did declare, he ought to be
delivered into the handes of the Gaules, as one that had
broken the lawe of armes, and had deserved it : but he made
friends to the people which favored him very much, and by
their meanes escaped liis deliverie, and punishment. Never-
thles, the Gaules within shorte time after, came before Rome Rome taken
with all their power : which they tooke, sacked, and burnt ^y *^ Gaules.
every whit, saving the Capitoll, as we have written more ^^^ ^"^^ "**
amplie in the life of Carmillus. Now concerning the Priestes
that were called Salii, they saye he dyd institute them upon The institu-
this occasion. In the eight yere of his reigne, there came a tion of the
pestilent disease through all Italic, and at the length it crept ^ '

183

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

NUMA also into Rome. Whereat every man being greatly aiFrayed,
POMPILIUS and discoraged, they saye there fell from heaven a target of
A target from copper, which lighted betweene the handes of Numa. They
heaven. ^q[\ hereof a wonderfull tale, which the King him selfe affirmed

he heard, of the Nymphe Egeria, and the Muses, To wit,
that this target was sent from heaven, for the health and
preservation of the cittie : and therefore he should keepe it
carefully, and cause eleven other to be cast and made, all
like vmto the same in facion and greatnes, to the ende, that
if any would enterprise to steale it, he should not tell
which of them to take for the right target. Moreover he
said, he was commaunded to consecrate the place to the
Muses (in the which he dyd oftentimes companie with them)
and also the fieldes which were neere thereabouts : and like-
wise to geve the fountaine that sprange in that place, unto
the Vestalls professed, that every daye they might drawe
water at that well, to washe the sanctuarie of their temple.
The successe hereof proved his words true, for the sicknes
ceased incontinently. So he assembled all the chief craftes
men then in Rome, to prove which of them would take upon
him to make one like unto that. Every man despayred to
performe it. Howbeit one called Veturius Mamurius (the
excellentest workeman that was in those dayes) dyd make
them all so sute like, that Numa him selfe dyd not knowe
the first target, when they were all layed together. So he
Whereofthey ordeined these priests Salii, to have the custodie of these
were called targets, to see them safe kept. They were called Salii, not
* "' after the name of a Salian borne in Samothracia, or in Man-

tinea, as some have untruely alleaged, who first invented the
manner of dauncing all armed : but they were so called, of
their facion and manner of dauncing, and leaping. For in
the moneth of Marche, they goe skipping and leaping up
and downe the cittie, with those targetes on their armes,
apparelled in red cassockes without sieves, and girded about
with broade leather sworde girdells, studded Math copper,
having helmets of copper on their heads, and striking upon
their targets with shorte daggers, which they carie in their
hands. Moreover, all their dauncing consisteth in moving
of their feete : for they handle them finely, making tomes
184

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

above ground and beneath, with a sodaine measure, and a NUMA

marvelous force of agilitie. They call these targets Ancyl'm^ POMPILIUS

bicause of their facion, which is not altogether compasse : Ancylia,

for they are not all round as other common targets be, but whereof so

they are cut with circles wreathed about, both the endes ^^ ^ *

bowing in many foldes, and one so neere another, that

altogether they come to a certaine wreathed forme, which

the Grecians call Ancylon. Or els they are so called, bicause

A neon signifieth an elbow, upon which they carie them. All

these derivations are written in the historic of luba, who in

any case will have this word Aiicylia to be drawen out of the

Greeke tongue. And it maye be also they were so called,

bicause the first came from above, which the Grecians call

Anecathen : or els for healing the sicke, which is called

Acesis. Or els for ceasing of the drines, which in Greke is

called, Anchmon Lysis. Or for the ending of all diseases

and evills, for which cause the Athenians call Castor and

Pollux, Anacas : if they lust to geve this word his derivation

from the Greeke tongue. Now the reward which Mamurius

the goldsmithe had for the making of these targets was, that

the Salij unto this daye doe make mention of him, in their

songe, which they singe going through the cittie, and daunc-

ing of their daunce all armed. Howbeit some thincke they

saye not Veturius Mamurius, but veterem memoriam, 'auncient

' memorie.'' But Numa after he had ordeined and instituted

these orders of priests, built his palace neere unto the temple

of Vesta, which holdeth his name Regia at this daye, to saye, Regia, the

the Kings palace. In which he remained most part of his Kings palace.

life, studying either to sacrifice to the goddes, or to teache

the Priestes what they should doe, or howe with them he

should best contemplate all heavenly things. It is true that The manner

he had another house on the hill, which they call at this «* the

daye, QuirinalL the place whereof is vet to be scene. But l^oi^^^iies

• -^ 11 ii -n '^ • "^j • ^4.1 worshipping

m ail these sacrifices, ceremonies, and processions oi tne of the goddes.

Priestes, there were allwayes husshers that went before, crying
to the people, Kepe silence, and tend upon divine service. The Pythago-
For they saye the Pythagorians thought it good, that men Jj^^^J.^j^^P'"^^^
should not worshippe the godds, nor make prayers to them pj-aygj.
in passing by, or doing any other thing : but they thought
2 A 185

NUMA
POMPILIUS

Hoc age, a
watcheword
to tend divine
service.

The similitude
of Numa and
Pythagoras
precepts.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

it mete, that men should of purpose goe out of their houses,
to serve and praye unto them. Even so king Numa thought
it not meete, that his subjects should come to see, and heare
divine service negligently, as it were for a facion, and only
to be ryd of it, as heeding an other thing : but he would
have them set a side all other busines, and employ their
thoughts and harts only upon the principall service of
religion, and devotion towards the godds. So that during
service time, he would not have heard any noise, any knock-
ing, bounsing, or any clapping, as they commonly heare in
all artificers shoppes of occupation, whereof at this daye yet
they see some signes, and tokens, remaining in their sacrifices
at Rome. For all the time the Augure beholdeth the flying
of the birds, or that he is doing any sacrifice, the vergers crie
alowde : Hoc age^ which meaneth, ' tend this.*" And it is a
warning to those that are present, to call their wittes home,
and to thincke on that which is in hand. Also there are
many of his orders like the preceptes of the Pythagorians.
For as they dyd warne men, not to sit upon a litle busshell,
not to cut fire with a sword, not to looke behinde them when
they goe abroade : to sacrifice to the celestiall godds in an
odde number, and to the goddes of the earth in an even
number, of which precepts, they would not have the common
people to have any knowledge or understanding. Even so
there are many institutions of Numa, the reasons whereof
are hidden and kept secret : as not to offer wine to the godds
of the vine never cut, and not to sacrifice unto them without
meale : and to turne a turne about when they doe reverence
to the godds, and to sit down after they have worshipped
them. And as touching the two first ordinances, it seemeth
that by them he did recommend clemency, and humanity,
as being a parte of the devotion towards the godds. But
as for the turning which he willeth them to make, that
worshippe the goddes : they saye it representeth the turning
which the element maketh by his moving. But me thincketh
it should rather come of this : for that the temples being
set to the east, he that worshippeth entring into the
temple, sheweth his backe to the West, and for this cause
turneth towardes that parte, and afterwards returneth againe
186

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

towards god : doing the whole turne, and ending the con- NUMA
summation of his prayer, by this double adoration which he POMPILIUS
maketh before and behinde. Onles peradventure that he
ment secretly to signifie, and geve them to understande by
this turning and chaunging of their looke, that which the
Egyptians figured by their wheels : in showing therby, that
these worldly things were never constant and in one state.
And therfore, that we should take it thankfully, and
paciently beare it, in what sorte soever it pleased god to
chaunge or alter our life. And where he commaunded that
they should sit after they liad worshipped god : they sayed
it was a token of a good hope unto them that prayed, that
their prayers should be exalted, and that their goods should
remaine safe, and sticke by them. Other saye, that this
ease and sitting, is a separating them from doing : and ther-
fore he would they should sit in the temples of the godds, to
sliew they had done that which they had in hand before, to
the end to take of the godds the beginning of another. And
it maye well be also, that it was referred to the thing we
spake of a litle before. That Numa would accustome his
people, not to serve the godds, nor to speake to them at all,
as they passed by, or did any other thing, or were in haste :
but would have them praye unto the godds when they had
time and leysure, and all other busines at that time set a
parte. By this good instruction and training them unto
religion, the cittie of Rome by litle and litle came to be so
tractable, and had the great power of king Numa in such
admiration : that they tooke all to be as true as the gospell By what
that he spake, though it had no more likelyhood of trothe, n'^ans Numa
then tales devised of pleasure. Furthermore, they thought Romajngs
nothing incredible, or unpossible to him, if he would have it. quiet and
And for proofe hereof, there goeth a tale of him, that he gentle,
having bidden a great company of the cittizens of Rome to
come and suppe with him, caused them to be served with
plaine grosse meate, and in very poore and homely vessell.
And when they were set, and beganne to fall to their meate,
he cast out words sodainely unto them, how the goddesse with
whom he accompanied, was come to see him even at that The wonders
instant, and that sodainely the hall was richely furnished, of Numa.

187

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

NUMA and the tables covered with all sortes of excellent fine and
POMPILIUS delicate meates. Hovvbeit this farre passed all the vanity
Numaes of lying, which is found written of him, about his speaking

speaking with with lupiter. The hill Aventine was not at that time in-
lupiter. habited, nor inclosed within the walles of Rome, but was

full of springs and shadowed groves, whether commonly
Picus. repaired to solace them selves, the two godds, Picus and

Faunus, Faunus, which otherwise might be thought two Satyres, or

of the race of the Titanians : saving it is sayed, that they
went through all Italic, doing the like miracles and wonders
in phisycke, charmes and arte magike, wliich they reporte of
those the Grecians call Idaees Dactyles. There they saye
that Numa tooke them both, having put into the spring
both wine and honnie, where they used to drinke. AVhen
they saw that they were taken, they transformed them selves
into divers forms, disguising and disfiguring their naturall
shape, into many terrible and feareful sights to behold.
Nevertheles in the end, perceiving they were so fast, as to
escape there was no reckoning : they revealed unto him many
The purifying things to come, and taught him the purifying against light-
of thunder. ning and thunder, which they make yet at this daye with
onions, heare, and pilchers. Other saye, he was not taught
that by them, but that they fetched lupiter out of heaven,
with their conj uring and magicke : whereat lupiter being
offended, aunswered in choller, that he should make it with
heads. But Numa added straight. Of onions : lupiter re-
plied, Of men. Then Numa asked him againe, to take a
litle away the cruelty of the commaundement : What heares .''
lupiter aunswered, Quicke hears. And Numa put to pilchers
also. And it is reported that this was the goddesse Egeria,
that taught Numa this subtiltie. This done, lupiter returned
appeased : by reason whereof the place was called Ilicium.
Ilicium, the For Ileos in the Greeke tongue signifieth appeased, and
name of the favorable : and this purifying was afterwards made in that
place. sorte. These tales not onely vayne, but full of mockerie

also, doe show us yet plainely the zeale and devotion men
had in those times towards the godds : unto which Numa
through custome had wonne them. And as for Numa him
self, they saye that he so firmely put all his hope and con-
188

k

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

fidence in the helpe of the godds : that one daye when he NUMA
was told his enemies were in armes against him, he did but POMPILIUS
laugh at it, and aunswered : And I doe sacrifice. It is he
(as some saye) that first built a temple to Faith and Terme : Numa buyld-
and which made the Romaines understand, that the most ed temples to
holy and greatest othe they could make, was to sweare by Faythe and
their faith, which they kepe yet at this daye. But Terme,
which signifieth bounds, is the god of confines, or borders :
unto whom they doe sacrifice, both publickly and privately,
upon the limites of inheritaunces, and now they sacrifice unto
him live beasts. Howbeit in old time they did sacrifice unto
him without any blonde, through the wise institution of
Numa : who declared and preached unto them, that this god
of bounds was syncere, and upright, witliout bloud or murther,
as he that is a witnes of justice, and a keper of peace. It
was he, which in my opinion, did first limit out the bounds Numa made
of the territorie of Rome : which Romulus would never doe, the bouudes
for feare least in bounding out his owne, he should confesse ^orieofRome
that which he occupied of other mens. For bounding and
mearing, to him that will keepe it justely : is a bond that
brideleth power and desire. But to him that forceth not to
kepe it : it is a proofe to shew his injustice. To saye truely,
the territories of Rome had no great bounds at the first be-
ginning, and Romulus had got by conquest the greatest parte
of it, and Numa did wholy devide it unto the nedie inhabitans
to releve them, and to bring them out of poverty : (which
carieth men hedlong into mischief, and discourageth them to
labour) to the end that plowing up the said lande, they should Numa
also plowe up the weedes of their own barrennes, to become advaunceth
civill and gentle. For there is no exercise nor occupation in t"^''*se.
tlie world, which so sodainely bringeth a man, to love and
desire quietnes, as doth husbandrie and tillage : and yet to
defend a mans own, there is in it corage and hardines to fight.
But greedy desire, violently to take from others, and unjustely
to occupie that is none of theirs, is never in right husband-
men. And therfore Numa having brought in husbandrie
amongest his subjects, as a medecine and meane to make
them love quietnes : was desirous to inure them to this trade
of life, the rather to make them humble and gentle of con-

189

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

NUMA
POMPILIUS

Numadevided
his people
into sundry
occupations.

Numa tooke
away the
factions of
Romulus and
Tatius.

dition, then to increase them in riches. He devided all the
territorie of Rome into certen parts which he called Pagos :
as much to saye, as villages. And in every one of them
he ordeined controllers and visiters, which should survey all
about : and he him self somtimes went abroade in persone,
conjecturing by their labour the manners and nature of
every man. Such as he found diligent, he advaunced them
unto honour, and gave them countenaunce and authoritie :
other which he sawe slowthfull and negligent, by rebuking
and reproving of them, he made them amend. But amongest
all his ordinaunces which he made, one above all the rest
caried the praise : and that was, that he devided his people
into sundrie occupations. For the cittie of Rome seemed
vet to be made of two nations, as we have sayed before : and
to speake more properly, it was made of two tribes. So that
it could not, or would not for any thing be made one : being
altogether impossible to take away all factions, and to make
there should be no quarrells nor contentions betwene both
parts. Wherefore he considered, that when one will mingle
two bodies or simples together, which for their hardnes and
contrarie natures cannot well suffer mixture : then he breaks
and beates them together, as small as may be. For, so
being brought into a smaller and lesser powder, they would
incorporate and agree the better. Even so he thought it
was best to devide the people also into many small partes :
by meanes whereof they should be put into many parties,
which would more easely take away the first and the greatest
parte, when it should be devided and separated thus into
sundrie sorts. And this division he made by arts and occu-
pations : as minstrells, goldsmiths, carpinters, diers, shoe-
makers, tawers, tanners, bell founders, and pot makers, and
so forth through other craftes and occupations. So that he
brought every one of these into one bodie, and companie by
it self: and ordeined unto every particular mysterie or crafte,
their feasts, assemblies, and services, which they should make
unto the godds, according to the dignitie and worthines of
every occupation. And by this meanes, he first tooke away
all faction : that neither side sayed, nor thought any more,
those are Sabynes, these are Romaines, these are of Tatius,
190

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

these are of Romulus. Insomuch as this division was an in- NUMA
corporating, and an uniting of the whole together. Among POMPILIUS
other his ordinaunces, they did much commend his reforming
of the law, that gave libertie unto fathers to sell their
children. For he did except children already maried, so they
were maried with their fathers consent and goodwill : judg-
ing it to be to cruell and over hard a thing, that a woman
who thought she had maried a free man, should finde her
self to be tlie wife of a bond man. He beganne also to The ordi-
mende a litle the calender, not so exactly as he should have naunce of
done, nor yet altogether ignorantly. For during the raigne themoneths
of Romulus, they used the moneths confusedly, without any institution.
order or reason, making some of them twenty dayes and
lesse, and others five and thirtie dayes and more, without
knowing the difference betwene the course of the sunne and the
moone : and only they observed this rule, that there was three
hundred and three score dayes in the yere. But Numa con-
sidering the inequality stoode upon eleven dayes, for that the Macrob. i.
12 revolutions of the moone are ronne in 300 fiftie and foure S^ty^- 13-
dayes, and the revolution of the sunne, in 365 dayes, he doubled
the 11 dayes, wherof he made a moneth : which he placed
from 2 yeres to 2 yeres, after the moneth of February, and
the Romaines called this moneth put betweene, Mercidinum,
which had 22 dayes. And this is the correction that Numa
made, which since hath had a farre better amendment. He
did also chaunge the order of the moneths. For Marche
which before was the first, he made it now the third : and
lanuary the first, which under Romulus was the 11 and
February the 12 and last. Yet many are of opinion, that
Numa added these two, lanuary and February. For the
Romaines at the beginning had but tenne moneths in the
yere : as some of the barbarous people make but three
moneths for their yere. And the Arcadians amongest the
Grecians have but foure moneths for their yere. The The yere
Acarnanians have sixe to the yere. And the Egyptians diversely
had first but one moneth to their yere : and afterwards '^^^^ ^
they made foure moneths for their yere. And this is the
cause why they seeme (albeit they inhabite in a new countrie)
to be nevertheles the auncientest people of the world : for

191

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

NUMA
POMPILIUS

*Peradven-
ture ye must
read in the
Greke (otto
rfjs rjpas)
which is to
saye, of the
name of luno.

that in their chronicles they reckon up such infinite number
of yeres, as those which counte the moneths for the yeres.
And to prove this true, that the Romaines at the beginning
had but tenne moneths in the yere, and not twelve : it is
easely to be judged by the name of the last, which they call
at this daye December. And that the moneth of Marche
was also the first, maye be conjectured by this : for the fift
moneth after that, is yet called Quintilis : the 6 Sextilis^ and
so the other in order following the numbers. For if January
and February had then bene the first, of necessitie the
moneth of luly, which they call Quintilis, must have bene
named September : considering also that it is very likely,
that the moneth which Romulus had dedicated unto Mars,
was also by him ordeined to be the first. The second was
Aprill : so called of the name Aphrodite, that is to saye
Venus, unto whom they make open sacrifice in this moneth.
And on the first daye of the same, women doe washe them
selves, having a garland of myrtle upon their heades, How-
beit some other saye, that it was not called after the name
of Aphrodite, but it was only called Aprilis, bicause then is
the chiefest force and strength of the spring, at which season
the earth doth open, and the seedes of plants and erbes
beginne to bud and showe forth, which the word it selfe
doth signifie. The moneth following next after that, is
called Maye : after the name of Maia, the mother of
Mercuric, unto whom the moneth is consecrated.* The
moneth of lune is so called also, bicause of the quality of
that season, which is as the youthe of the yere. Although
some will saye, that the moneth of Maye was named of this
word Mqjores, which signifieth as much as the elders : and
the moneth of lune, of Imiiores, which signifies the younger
men. All the other following, were named in old time by
the numbers according to their order, Quintilis, Sextilis,
September, October, November, and December. But Quin-
tilis, was afterward called lulius, of the name of lulius
Caesar, who slew Pompeius. And Sextilis was named
Augustus, Octavius Caesars successour in the empire, who
was also surnamed Augustus. It is true also that Domitian
would they should call the two moneths following (which
192

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

are September and October) the one Germanicus, and the NUMA
other Domitianus. But that helde not longe : for so soone PO.MPILIUS
as Domitian was killed, the moneths recovered their auncient
names againe. The two last moneths only, have ever con-
tinued their names, without chaunging or altering. But
of the two which Numa added, or at the least translated :
the raoneth of February doth signifie as much as purging,
or at the least the derivation of the word sowndeth neere it.
In this moneth, they doe sacrifice of plantes,* and doe cele- *Some olde
brate the feast of the Lupercales, in which there are many Grecian
things agreable, and like to the sacrifices made for purifica- ^.?f^^\ ^^^'^ '"
tion. And the first which is January, was called after the a^^qI^i^ ^
name of lanus. Wherefore me thinckes that Numa tooke much to save,
away the moneth of Marche from the first place, and gave as for the
it unto January : bicause he would have peace preferred tleade.
before warre, and civill things before marshall. For this
lanus (were he King, or demigod) in the former age was
counted very civill and polliticke. For he chaunged the life
of men, which before his time was rude, cruell, and wild:
and brought it to be honest, gentle, and civill. For this Why lanus is
cause they doe painte his image at this daye with two faces, painted with
the one before, and the other behinde, for thus chaunging ^^** ^^^^'
the lives of men. And there is in Rome a temple dedicated
unto him, which hath two doores, that be called the doores
of warre : for the custome is to open them, when the
Romaines have any warres in any place, and to shut them At what time
when they be at peace. To have them shut, it was a rare the temple
thinge to see, and happened very seldome : by reason of the ^j^^^jj^ Yiome
greatnes of their empire, which of all sides was environned ^.ju. lib. i.
with barbarous nations, whom they were compelled to keepe
imder with force of armes. Notwithstanding it was once
shut up in the time of Augustus, after he had slaine
Antonie : and once before also in the yere when Marcus
Attilius and Titus Manlius were Consuls. But that con-
tinued not long, for it was opened again incontinently, by
reason of warres that came upon them sone after. Howbeit The Romains
during the raigne of Numa, it was never one day opened, had no warres
but remained shut continually by the space of three and ^^^^^^ ''
forty yeres together. For all occasions of warres, were
2B 193

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

NUMA then utterly dead and forgotten : bicause at Rome the
POMPILIUS people were not only through thexample of justice, clemen-
cie, and the goodnes of the King brought to be quiet, and
to love peace : but in the citties thereabouts, there beganne
a marvelous chaunge of manners and alteration of life, as if
some gentle ayer had breathed on them, by some gratious
and healthfull wind, blowen from Rome to refresh them.
And thereby bred in mens mindes such a harty desire to live
in peace, to till the ground, to bring up their children, and
to serve the goddes truely : that almost through all Italie,
there Avas nothing but feastes, playes, sacrifices, and bankets.
The people did traffike and frequent together, without feare
or daunger, and visited one another, making great cheere :
as if out of the springing fountaine of Numaes wisedom
many pretie brookes and streames of good and honest life
had ronne over all Italie, and had watered it : and that the
mildnes of his wisdom had from hand to hand been dis-
parsed through the whole world. Insomuch, as the over
excessive speaches the Poets accustomably doe use, were not
sufficient enough to expresse the peaceable raigne of that
time.

Tliere : spiders weave, their cobwebbes daye and night
in harnesses, which wont to serve for warre :
there : cancred rust doth fret, the Steele full bright
of trenchant blades, well whet in many a larre.

There : mighty speares, for lacke of use are eaten,
with rotten wormes : and in that countrie there,
the braying trompe dotlie never seeme to threaten,
their quiet eares, with blasts of bloudy feare.

There : in that lande, no drowsie sleepe is broken,
with hotte alarmes, which terrours doe betoken.

For during all king Numaes raigne, it was never heard
that ever there were any warres, civil dissention, or innova-
tion of government attempted against him, nor yet any secret
enmitie or malice borne him, neither any conspiracie once
thought on to reigne in his place. And whether it was for
feare of displeasing the godds (which visibly seemed to take
him into their protection) or for the reverent regarde they
had unto his vertue, or for his prosperous and good successe
all the time he raigned, I cannot tell : howbeit he sought to

194

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

keepe men still pure, and honest, from all wickednes, and NUMA
layed most open before the eyes of the whole world, a very POMPILIUS
example of that which Plato long time after did affirme, and
saye, concerning true government : which was. That the
only meane of true quietnes, and remedy from all evill
(which ever troubleth men) was : when by some divine
ordinaunce from above there meteth in one person, the right Platoes saying
majestie of a King, and the minde of a wise philosopher, to ^^j^^'l^""."^
make vertue governesse and ruler over vice. For in deede ^^ ^ common
happie is such a wise man, and more happy are they, which ^gale.
maye heare the grave counsaill, and good lessons of such a
mouthe. And there me thincks needeth no force, no com-
pulsion, no threates, nor extremitie to bridle the people.
For men seeing the true image of vertue in their visible
prince, and in the example of his life, doe willingly growe to
be wise, and of them selves doe fall into love liking, and friend-
shippe together, and doe use all temperaunce, j ust dealing,
and good order one toward another, leading their life with-
out offence, and with the commendation of other : which is
the chiefe pointe of felicitie, and the most happie good that
can light unto men. And he by nature is best worthy
to be a King, who through his wisdome and vertue, can
grafFe in mens manners such a good disposition : and this,
Numa above all other, seemed best to knowe and under-
stand. Furthermore, touching his wives and children, there Numaes
are great contrarieties among; the historiographers. For ^^i^es and
some of them saye, he never maried other wife then Tatia, ^
and that he never had any children, but one only daughter,
and she was called Pompilia. Other write to the contrarie, Pompilia,
that he had foure sonnes, Pompo, Pinus, Calpus, and Ma- Numaes
mercus : of every one of the which (by succession from the ^^
father to the sonne) have descended the noblest races, and
most auncient houses of the Romaines. As the house of
the Pomponians, of Pompo : the house of the Pinarians,
of Pinus : the house of the Calphurnians, of Calpus : and
the house of the jVIamercians, of Mamercus. All which
families by reason of their first progenitor have kept the
surname of Reges, ' Kings.' There are three other writers,
which doe reprove the two first : saying that they dyd write

1 yo

NUMA
POMPILIUS

Pompilia
maried to
Caius Martius
Coriolanus.

Martius the
Sabyne, made
Senatour at
Rome.

Ancus
Martius,
the Sonne of
Caius Martius
Coriolanus.

The death
of Numa.

Numaes
bookes.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

to gratifie the families, making them falsely to descend of the
noble race of king Numa. Moreover it is sayed, he had his
daughter Pompilia, not by Tatia, but by his other wife
called Lucretia, whom he maried after he was made King.
Howbeit they all agree, that his daughter Pompilia was
maried unto one Martius, the sonne of the same Martius,
which persuaded him to accept the kingdome of Rome.
For he went with him to Rome, to remaine there : where
they dyd him the honour to receyve him into the number
of the Senatours. After the death of Numa, Martius the
father stoode against Tullus Hostilius for the succession of
the Realme, and being overcome, he killed him selfe for
sorowe. But his sonne Martius, who maried Pompilia, con-
tinued still at Rome, where he begotte Ancus Martius, who
was king of Rome after Tullus Hostilius, and was but five
yere olde when Numa dyed. Whose death was not sodaine.
For he dyed consuming by litle and litle, aswell through
age, as also through a lingring disease that waited on him
to his ende, as Piso hath written : and Numa at his death
was litle more, then foure score yere old. But the pompe
and honour done unto him at his funeralles, made his life
yet more happie and glorious. For all the people his
neighbours, friendes, kinsemen, and allies of the Romaines
came thither, bringing crownes with them, and other pub-
licke contributions to honour his obsequies. The noble men
selves of tlie cittie (which were called Patricians) caried on
their shoulders the very bedd, on which the course laye, to
be conveyed to his grave. The Priestes attended also on
his bodie, and so dyd all the rest of the people, women and
children in like case, which followed him to his tumbe, all
bewaling and lamenting his death, with teares, sighes, and
mournings. Not as a King dead for very age, but as they
had mourned for the death of their dearest kinseman, and
nearest friende that had dyed before he Avas olde. They
burnt not his bodie, bicause (as some saye) he commaunded
the contrarie by his will and testament : but they made two
coffines of stone, which they buried at the foote of the hill
called laniculum. In the one they layed his bodie, and in the
other the holy bookes which he had written him selfe, much
196

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

like unto those, which they that made the lawes among the NUMA
Grecians dyd write in tables. But bicause in his life time POMPILIUS
he had taught the priestes, the substaunce of the whole con-
teined in the same : he willed the holy tables which he had
written, should be buried with his bodie. For he thought it
not reasonable that so holy matters should be kept by dead
letters and writings, but by mens manners and exercises.
And he followed herein they saye, the Pythagorians, who Why the
would not put their worckes in writing, but dyd printe the Pythagorians
knowledge of them in their memories, whom they knew to !^ nothing
be worthy men, and that without any writing at all. And
if they had tauglit any manner of persone the hidden rules
and secretes of Geometrie, which had not bene worthy of
them : then they sayed the goddes by manifest tokens
would threaten, to revenge such sacriledge and impietie,
with some great destruction and miserie. Therefore, seeing
so many things agreable, and altogether like betweene Numa
and Pythagoras, I easely pardon those which mainteine
their opinion, that Numa and Pythagoras were familiarly
acquainted, and conversant together. Valerius Antias the
historian writeth, there were twelve bookes written con- 12 bookes of
cerning the office of Priestes, and twelve other conteining priesthood,
the philosophic of the Grecians. And that foure hundred 12 bookes of
yeres after (in the same yere when Publius Cornelius, and philosophie.
Marcus Bebius were consuls) there fell a great rage of waters
and raine, which opened the earthe, and discovered these
coffines : and the liddes and covers thereof being caried
awaye, they founde the one altogether voyde, having no
manner of likelyhoode, or token of a bodie that had layen
in it : and in the other they founde these bookes, which
were delivered unto one named Petilius (at that time Praetor)
who had the charge to reade them over, and to make the
reporte of them. But he having perused them over, declared
to the Senate, that he thought it not convenient the matters
conteined in them should be published unto the simple
people : and for that cause they were caried into the market
place, and there were openly burnte. Surely it is a common Good men
thing, that happeneth unto all good and just men, that pr^iysed after
they are farre more praysed and esteemed after their death, * death.

197

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

NUMA then before : bicause that envie doth not long continue after
POMPILIUS their death, and oftentimes it dieth before them. But not-
The mis-
fortunes of
Numaes

successours.
Hostilius.

withstanding, the misfortunes which chaunced afterwardes
unto the five Kings which raigned at Rome after Numa, have
made his honour shine, with much more noble glorie then
before. For the last of them was driven out of his King-
dome, and died in exile, after he was very olde. And of
the other foure, none of them died their naturall death, but
three of them were killed by treason. And Tullus Hostilius
*" which raigned after Numa, deriding, and contemning the
most parte of his good and holy institutions, and chiefly his
devotion towardes the goddes, as a thing which made men
lowly and fainte harted : dyd assone as ever he came to be
King, turne all his subjects hartes to the warres. But this
mad humour of his, continued not long. For he was plagued
with a straunge, and most grievous disease that followed him,
which brought him to chaunge his minde, and dyd farre other-
wise turne his contempt of Religion, into an overfearfull super-
stition, which dyd nothing yet resemble the true Religion and
devotion of Numa : and besides, he infected others with
his contagious errour, through the inconvenience
which happened unto him at his death. For he
was stricken and burnt with lightning.

198

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

THE COMPARISON OF
LYCURGUS WITH NUMA

HUS having written the lives of Lycurgus
and Numa, the matter requireth, though
it be somewhat harde to doe, that we
comparing the one with the other, should
set out the difference betweene them. For
in those things wherein they were like of
condition, their deedes doe shewe it suffi-
ciently. As in their temperaunce, their
devotion to the goddes, their wisdome in governing, and
their discreete handling of their people, by making them
beleeve that the goddes had revealed the lawes unto them,
which they established. And nowe to come unto their
qualities, which are diversely, and severally commended in
either of them. Their first qualitie is, that Numa accepted
the Kingdome, and Lycurgus gave it up. The one receyved
it, not seeking for it : and the other having it in his handes,
did restore it againe. The one being a straunger, and a
private man : was by straungers elected and chosen, their
lorde and King. The other being in possession a King,
made him selfe againe a private persone. Suer it is a
goodly thing to obtaine a Realme by justice : but it is a
goodlier thing to esteeme justice above a Realme. Vertue
brought the one to be in such reputation, that he was judged
worthy to be chosen a King : and vertue bred so noble a
minde in the other, that he esteemed not to be a King.
Their second qualitie is, that like as in an instrument of
musicke, the one of them did tune and wrest up tlie slacke
stringes which were in Sparta : so the other slackened, and
set them lower, which were to highe mounted in Rome.
Wherein Lycurgus difficulty was the greater. For he did
not persuade his cittizens, to plucke of their armour and
curates, nor to laye by their swordes : but only to leave
their golde and silver, to forsake their softe beddes, their

199

Tlie vertues
of Numa and
Lycurgus
were alike,
but their
deeds divers.

What things
were harde to
Lycurgus.

LYCURGLS

AND

NUMA

Slaves sat
with their
masters at
Saturn es
feasts,
^lacrob.
Satu}'. lib. I.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

fine wrought tables, and other curious riche furniture, and
not to leave of the travell of warres, to geve them selves
only unto feastes, sacrifices, and playes. But to the contrarie,
to geve up bancketing and feasting, and continually to
take paynes in the warres, yelding their bodies to all kinde
of paynes. By which meanes, the one for the love and
reverence they did beare him, easely persuaded all that he
would : and the other, by putting him selfe in daunger, and
being hurte also, obtained not without great travell and
adventure, the end of his intended purpose and desire.
Xuma his muse was so gentle, loving, and curteous, that
the manners of his cittizens, which before were furious and
violent, were now so tractable and civill, that he taught
them to love peace and justice. And to the contrarie, if
they will compell me to number amongest the lawes and
ordinaunces of Lycurgus, that which we have written touch-
ing the Ilotes, which was a barbarous cruell thing : I must
of force confesse that Numa was muche wiser, more gentle,
and civill in his lawes, considering that even unto those
which in deede were borne slaves, he gave some litle
tast of honour, and sweetnes of libertie, having ordained,
that in the feastes of Saturne, they should sit doAvne at
meate, at their masters owne table. Some holde opinion,
that this custome was brought in by king Numa : who willed
that those, which through their labour in tillage brought in
much fruite, should have some pleasure thereof to make
good cheere with the first fruites of the same. Other
imagine, that it is yet a token and remembraunce of the
equalitie, Avhich was emongest men in the world in Saturnes
time, when there was neither master nor servaunte, but all
men were alike equall, as brethern or kinsemen. To con-
clude, it seemeth either of them tooke a direct course,
thought best to them selves, to frame their people unto
temperaunce, and to be contented with their owne. But for
their other vertues, itappeareth that the one loved warre best,
and the other justice : onles it were that men would saye, that
for the diversitie of the nature or custome of their people
(which were almost contrarie in manners) they were both
compelled to use also contrary and divers meanes from other.
200

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

For it was not of a fainte harte, that Numa tooke from his LYCURGUS
people the use of armes, and desire to be in warres : but ^^'^

it was to the ende they should not doe any wrong to others. NUMA
Neither did Lycurgus also studie to make his people Divers causes
souldiers and warlike, to hurte others : but for feare rather of the diver-
that others should hurte them. And so, to cut of the ^J^jions oT*^"
excesse in the one, and to supply the defect of the other : ^uma and
they were both enforced to bring in a straunge manner of Lycurgus.
government. Furthermore, touching their severall kinde
of government, and dividing of their people into states and
companies : that of Numa was marvelous meane and base,
and framed to the liking of the meanest people, making a
bodie of a cittie, and a people compounded together of all
sortes, as goldesmithes, minstrells, founders, shoemakers, and Description of
of all sortes of craftes men and occupations together. But *^^^'* people,
that of Lycurgus, was directly contrarie : for his was more
severe and tyrannicall, in governing of the nobility, cast-
ing all craftes and base occupations upon bondemen and
straungers, and putting into the handes of his cittizens the
shield and launce, suffering them to exercise no other arte or
science, but the arte and discipline of warres, as the true
ministers of Mars : which all their life time never knewe
other science, but only learned to obey their captaines, and
to commaund their enemies. For to have any occupation,
to buye and sell, or to trafficke, free men were expressely
forbidden : bicause they should wholy and absolutely be
free. And all sciences to get money was lawfull for slaves,
and the Ilotes : being counted for as vile an occupation, as
to dresse meate, and to be a scullian of a kitchin. Numa
put not this difference amongest his people, but only tooke
away covetous desire to be riche by warres : but otherwise,
he did not forbid them to get goodes by any other lawfull
meanes, neither tooke any regarde to bring all to equalitie,
and to be a like wealthy, but suffered every man to get
what he could, taking no order to prevent povertie, which
crept in, and spred farre in his cittie. Which he should
have looked unto at the beginning, at that time when there
was not too great an unequalitie amongest them, and that
his cittizens for substaunce were in manner equall one with
2C 201

LYCURGUS

AND

NUMA

Reasou for
manages.

Numaes order
for maydens
the better.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

another : for then was the time when he should have made
head against avarice, to have stopped the mischieves and in-
conveniences, which fell out afterwards, and they were not
litle. For that only was the fountaine and roote, of the
most parte of the greatest evills and mischieves, which
happened afterwardes in Rome. And as touching the divi-
sion of goodes : neither ought Lycurgus to be blamed for
doing it, nor Numa for that he did it not. For this equality
unto the one, was a ground and foundation of his common
wealth, which he afterwards instituted : and unto other, it
could not be. For this division being made not long before
the time of his predecessour, there was no great neede to
chaunge the first, the which (as it is likely) remained yet in
full perfection. As touching mariages, and their children to
be in common, both the one and the other wisely sought to
take awaye all occasion of jealousie : but yet they tooke not
both one course. For the Romaine husband, having children
enough to his contentation : if another that lacked children
came unto him, to praye him to lende him his wife, he might
graunte her unto him, and it was in him to geve her alto-
gether, or to lende her for a time, and to take her after-
wardes againe. But the Laconian, keeping his wife in his
house, and the mariage remaining whole and unbroken,
might let out his wife to any man that would require her
to have children by her: naye furthermore, many (as we
have told you before) did them selves intreat men, by whom
they thought to have a trimme broode of children, and layed
them with their wives. What difference, I praye you was
betwene these two customes ? saving that the custome of
the Laconians shewed, that the husbands were nothing
angrie, nor grieved with their wives for those things, which
for sorrowe and jealousie doth rent the hartes of most
maried men in the world. And that of the Romaines was
a simplicitie somwhat more shamefast, which to cover it, was
shadowed yet with the cloke of matrimonie, and contract of
mariage : confessing that to use wife and children by halfes
together, was a thing most intollerable for him. Further-
more, the keeping of maidens to be maried by Numaes order,
was much straighter and more honorable for womanhed : and
202

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

Lycvirgus order having to much scope and libertie, gave LYCURGUS
Poets occasion to speake, and to geve them surnames not and

very honest. As Ibycus called them Phcenomeridas : to NUMA
saye, thighe showei*s : and Andromanes: to saye manhood.
And Euripides sayeth also of them,

Good nut browne girles which left, their fathers house at large,
and sought for young mens companie, and tooke their ware in
charge :

And shewed their thighes all bare, the taylour did them wrong,
on eche side open were their cotes, the sljrtts were all to long.

And in deede to saye truely, the sides of their petticotes
were not sowed beneath : so that as they went, they shewed
their thighes naked and bare. The which Sophocles doth
easely declare by these verses :

The songe which you shall singe, shalbe the sonnet sayde,

by Hermione lusty lasse, that strong and sturdy mayde :
Which trust her petticote, about her midle shorte,

and set to shewe her naked hippes, in francke and frendly sorte.

And therefore it is sayed, the Lacon wives were bolde, TheLaconians
manly, and stowte against their husbands, namely the first, were to manly.
For they were wholy mistresses in the house, and abroade :
yea they had law on their side also, to utter their mindes
franckly concerning the chiefest matters. But Numa ever
reserved the honour and dignitie unto the women, which was
left them by Romulus in his time, when their husbands, after
they had taken them awaye perforce, disposed them selves to
use them as gentely as possibly they could : nevertheles, he
added otherwise thereto, great honesty, and tooke awaye all The Romaine
curiositie from them, and taught them sobrietie, and did women very
inure them to speake litle. For he did utterly forbid them "modest,
wine, and did prohibite them to speake, although it were for
things necessarie, onles it were in the presence of their
husbands. In so much as it is reported, that a woman
chauncing one daye to pleade her cause in persone, openly
before the judges: the Senate hearing of it, did send imme-
diately unto the oracle of Apollo, to know what that did
prognosticate to the cittie. And therfore Numa thought

203

LYCURGUS

AND

NUMA

The first
divorce at
Rome.

HoAve much
education and
discipline is
worthe.

Arist. i)olit. 8.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

the memorie of the naughty women, would much commend
the great humihtie, gentlenes, and obedience of the good. For
Hke as our Grecian historiographers doe note those which were
the first that killed any of their cittizens, or have fought with
their brethern, or have killed their fathers or mothers : even
so the Romames doe note that Spurius Car\'ilius was the first
which forsooke his wife, two hundred and thirtie yeres after
the first foundation of Rome, which was never done by any
before. And that the wife of one Pinarius, called Thalaea,
was the first which ever brawled or quarrelled with her mother
in lawe called Gegania, in the time when Tarquine surnamed
the prowde raigned : so well and honestly were the orders of
Numa devised concerning mariage. Moreover, the age and
time of marying of maydes, which both the one and the
other ordeined : doth agree with the rest of their education.
For Lycurgus would not that they should be maried, till
they were of good yeres, and women growen : to the ende
that they knowing the company of man at such time as
nature requireth, it should be a beginning of their pleasure
and love, and not of griefe and hate, when she should be
compelled unto it before time agreable by nature, and
bicause their bodies also should be more stronge and able to
beare children, and to indure the mothers painefull throwes
and travell in childe bearing, considering they are maried to
no other ende, but to beare children. But the Romaines to
the contrarie, doe marye them at twelve yeres of age, and
under : saying, that by this meanes their bodies and manners
be wholy theirs, which doe marye them, being assured that
no body els could touch them. By this reason it is manifest,
that the one is more naturall, to make them strong to beare
children : and the other more morall, to geve them the
forme and manner of conditions, which a man would have
them to kepe all their life time. Moreover touching orders
for education of children, that they should be brought up,
instructed, and taught, under the selfe same masters and
govemours, which should have an eye to make them drincke,
eate, playe, and exercise them selves honestly, and orderly
together : Numa made no more provision for the same, then
the least maker of lawes that ever was, and nothing in com-
204

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

parison of Lycurgus. For Numa left the parents at libertie, LYCURGUS
to use their discretion (according unto their covetousnes or and

necessitie) to cause their children to be brought up as they NUMA
thought good : whether they would put them to be labourers,
carpinters, founders, or minstrells. As if they should not
frame the manners of children, and facion them from their
cradell all to one ende : but should be as it were like pas-
sengers in one shippe, which being there, some for one busines,
other for another purpose, but all to divers endes, doe never
medle one with another, but in a rough storme or tempest,
when every man is affrayed of his ovme life. For otherwise,
no man careth but for him selfe. And other makers of lawes
also, are to be borne withall, if any thing hath scaped
them through ignoraunce, or some time through lacke of
sufficient power and authoritie. But a wise philosopher,
having receyved a realme of people newly gathered together,
which dyd contrary him in nothing : whereto should he most
plye his studie and indevour, but to cause children to be well
brought up, and to make young men exercise them selves,
to the ende they should not differ in manners, nor that they
should be troublesome, by their divers manner of bringing
up, but that they should all agree together, for that they
had bene trained from their childhood unto one selfe trade,
and facioned under one selfe patteme of vertue ? That good
education, besides other commodities, dyd also serve to How Lycur-
preserve Lycurgus lawes. For the feare of their othe which gus lawes wen
they had made, had bene of small effect, if he had not through sta^ished.
institution, and education (as it were) dyed in wolle the
manners of children, and had not made them from their
nources brestes in manner, sucke the luice and love of his
lawes, and civill ordinaunces. And this was of suche force,
that for the space of five hundred yeres and more, Lycurgus
chief lawes and ordinaunces remained in full perfection, as a
deepe woded dye, which went to the bottome, and pearced
into the tender wolle. Contrariwise, that which was Numaes ^Vliy Numaes
chief ende and purpose, to continew Rome in peace and orders dyed,
amitie, dyed by and by with him. For he was no soner
dead, but they opened both the gates of the temple of lanus,
which he so carefully had kept shut all his reigne, as if in

205

AND

NUMA

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

LYCURGUS deede he had kept in warres there, under locke and keye, and
they filled all Italic with murder and bloude : and this his
godly, holy, and just government which his Realme enjo^-ed
all his time, did not last long after, bicause it had not the
bonde of education, and the discipline of children which
should mainteine it. Why, maye a man saye to me here :
Hath not Rome excelled still, and prevailed more and more
in chevalrie ? This question requireth a long aunswer, and
specially unto such men, as place felicitie in riches, in posses-
sions, and in the greatness of empire, rather then in the
quiet safety, peace, and concorde of a common weale : and
in clemency and justice, joyned with contentation. Never-
theles, howsoever it was, that maketh for Lycurgus also, that
the Romaines, after they had chaunged the state which they
had of Numa, dyd so marvelously increase and growe mightie :
and that the Lacedasmonians to the contrarie, so soone as
they beganne to breake Lycurgus lawes, being of great
authoritie and swaye, fell afterwards to be of small accompt.
So that having lost the soveraintie and commaundement
over Grece, they stoode in great hazarde also to be over-
throwen for ever. But in trothe it was some divine thing in
Numa, that he being a meere straunger, the Romames dyd
seeke him, to make him King, and that he could so chaunge
all, and rule a whole cittie as he listed (not yet joyned
together) without neede of any force or violence : as it was
in Lycurgus, to be assisted with the best of the citty, in
resisting the commons of Lacedsemon, but he could
never otherwise have kept them in peace, and
made them love together, but by his only
wisdom and justice.

Why Numa
is to be pre-
ferred before
Lycurgus.

THE ENDE OF NUMA POMPILIUS LIFE

206

^"^

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

THE LIFE OF SOLON

Great friend
shipp betwix
Solon and
Pisistratus.

IDYMUS the Grammarian, in a litle
booke that he wrote and dedicated unto
Asclepiades, touching the tables of the
lawes of Solon, alleageth the wordes of
one Philocles, in which he speaketh against
the common opinion of those that have
written, that Solons father was called Solonslinag(
Euphorion. For all other writers agree,
that he was the sonne of Execestides, a man but reasonably
to live, although otherwise he was of the noblest and most
auncient house of the cittie of Athens. For of his fathers
side, he was descended of king Codrus : and for his mother,
Heraclides Ponticus writeth, she was cosin germaine unto
Pisistratus mother. For this cause even from the beginning
there was great friendshippe betwene them, partely for their
kinred, and partely also for the curtesie, and beawtie of
Pisistratus, with whom it is reported Solon on a time was in
love. Afterwards they fortuned to fall at jarre one with the
other, about matter of state and government : yet this square
bred no violent inconvenience betwene them, but they
reserved in their hartes still their auncient amitie, which
continued the memorie of their love, as a great fire doth a
burning flame. That Solon was no stayed man to withstand
beawtie, nor any great doer to prevaile in love, it is manifest
to all, aswell by other poeticall writings that he hath made,
as by a lawe of his owne : wherein he dyd forbid bondmen
to perfume them selves, or to be lovers of children. WTio
placed this lawe among honest matters, and commendable :
as allowing it to the better sorte, and forbidding it to the
basest. They saye also that Pisistratus selfe was in love with
Charmus, and that he dyd set up the litle image of love,
which is in Academia, where they were wont to light the
holy candell. But Solons father (as Hermippus writeth)
having spent his goodes in liberalitie, and deedes of curtesie,
though he might easely have bene relieved at divers mens

207

A statute foi
bondmen.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

Solon gave
him selfe in

SOLON handes with money, he was yet ashamed to take any, bicause
he came of a house which was wont rather to geve and relieve
others, then to take them selves : so being yet a young man,
he devised to trade marchaundise. Howbeit other saye,
that Solon travelled countries, rather to see the worlde, and
to learne : then to trafficke, or ga,yne. For sure he was very
niarchaundise ^^^i^'^us of knowledge, as appeareth manifestly : for that
being nowe olde, he commonly used to saye this verse :

I growe olde, learning still.

Also he was not covetously bent, nor loved riches to
much : for he sayd in one place :

Who so hath goodes, and golde enough at call,

freat heards of beastes, and flocks in many a folde,
oth horse and mule, yea store of come and all,
that maye content eche man above the mowlde :
no richer is, for all those heapes and hoordes,
then he which hathe, sufficiently to feede,
and clothe his corpes, with such as god afoordes.
But if is joye, and chief delight doe breede, '

for to beholde the fayer and heavenly face,
of some swete wife, which is adornde with grace :
or els some childe, of beawty fayre and bright,
then hath he cause (in deede) of deepe delight.

And in another place also he sayeth :

In deede I doe desii-e, some wealthe to have at will :
but not unles the same be got, by faithfull dealing still.

For suer who so desires by wickednes to thrive :

shall finde that justice from such goodes, will justly him
deprive.

There is no law forbiddeth an honest man, or gentleman,
greedily to scrape goods together, and more then may suffice :
and likewise to get sufficient to mainteine one withall, and to
defraye all needefull charges. In those dayes no state was
discommended, as sayeth Hesiodus, nor any arte or science
made any difference betwene men : but marchaundise they
thought an honorable state, as that which delivered meanes,
to traffike into straunge and farre countries, to get acquaint-
aunce with states, to procure the love of princes, and chiefly
to gather the experience of the world. So that there have bene

208

Solons judg-
mentofriches.

The commo-
dities of mar-
chaundise.

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

marchaunts, which heretofore have bene founders of great SOLON
citties : as he which first buylt Massilia, after he had A marchaun
obteined the friendshippe of the Gaules, dwelKng by the ^^^^*1.^^
river of Rhosne. And they say also, that Thales Milesius Massilia.
the wise, did traffike marchaundise, and that Hippocrates the Thales.
mathematike did even so : and likewise that Plato travelling Hippocrates
into Egipt, did beare the whole charges of his iomey, with "^^''^- ^"
the gaines he made of the sale of oile he caried thither.
They remember also, that Solon learned to be lavish in
expence, to fare delicately, and to speake wantonly of
pleasures in his Poemes, somwhat more licentiously then
became the gravity of a Philosopher : only bicause he was
brought up in the trade of marchaundise, wherein for that
men are marvelous subject to great losses and daungers, they
seeke otherwiles good chere to drive these cares awaye, and
libertie to make much of them selves. Yet it appeareth by
these verses, that Solon accompted him selfe rather in the
number of the poore, than of the riche.

Riche men (oftimes) in lewdest lives doe range. Poverty wit

and often seene, that vertuous men be poore : vertue bettt

Yet would the good, their goodnes never chaunge than riches,

with lewd estate, although their wealthe be more.

For vertue stands allwayes, both firme and stable :
When riches rove, and seldome are durable.

This Poetry at the beginning he used but for pleasure,
and when he had leysure, writing no matter of importaunce
in his verses. Afterwards he dyd set out many grave matters How Solon
of philosophie, and the most parte of such things as he had »ised his
devised before, in the government of a common weale, which P'^^*"®-
he dyd not for historie or memories sake, but only of a
pleasure to discourse : for he shew eth the reasons of that
he dyd, and in some places he exhorteth, chideth, and re-
proveth the Athenians. And some affirme also he went
about to \vrite his lawes and ordinaunces in verse, and doe
recite his preface, which was this :

Vouchesave O mighty love, of heaven and earth highe King :
to graunt good fortune to my lawes, and beasts in everie thing.

And that their glorie growe, in such triumphaunt wise,

as maye remaine in fame for aye, which lives and never dies.

2 D 209

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

SOLON He chiefly delited in morall philosophic, which treated of

Solon delited government and common weales : as the most parte of the
in morall, but wise men dyd of those times. But for natural! philosophic,
notinnaturall j^g ^y^g ygj.y grosse and simple, as appeareth by these verses.

The clattering hayle, and softly falling snowe

doe breede in ayer, and fall from cloudes on hye.
The dreadfull clappes, which thunderbolts doe throwe,

doe come from heaven, and lightninges bright in skye.
The sea it selfe by boysterous blastes dothe rore

which (were it not provoked so full sore)
Would be both calme and quiet for to passe,

as any element that ever was.

So in eifect there was none but Thales alone of all the seven
wise men of Grece, who searched further the contemplation
of things in common use among men, than he. For setting
him a parte, all the others got the name of wisdome, only for
their understanding in matters of state and government. It
is reported that they met on a daye all seven together in the
cittie of Delphes, and another time in the cittie of Corinthe,
where Periander got them together at a feast that he made to
the other sixe. But that which most increased their glorie,
and made their fame most spoken of, was the sending backe
againe of the three footed stoole when they all had refused
it, and turned it over one to another with great humanitie.
For the tale is, howe certaine fisher men of the He of Co,
cast their nettes into the sea, and certaine straungers passing
by, that came from the cittie of Miletum, did buye their
draught of fishe at adventure, before the net was drawen.
Hellens three And when they drue it up, there came up in the net a three
footed stoole footed stoole of massy gold, which men saye, Hellen (as she
ofgold drawen ^^ returne from Trove) had thro wen in in that place, in

lit) in 1 clrsp* *' • ■*■

jjg^ ^ memory of an auncient oracle she called then unto her minde.

Thereupon the straungers and fisher men first fell at strife
about this three footed stoole, who should have it : but after-
wardes the two citties tooke parte of both sides, on their
cittizens behalfe. In so much as warres had like to have
followed betwene them, had not the prophetesse Pythia
geven a like oracle unto them both. That they should
geve this three footed stoole unto the wisest man. Where-

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

upon the men of Co, sent it first to Thales in the cittic of SOLON
Miletum, as being willing to graunte that unto a private
persone, for which they had made warres with all the
Milesians before, Thales sayed, he thought Bias a wiser The rare
man than him selfe : and so it was sent unto him. He like- modesty of
wise sent it aganie unto another, as to a wiser man. And *^ ^^^^^ "^®°'
that other, sent it also unto another. So that being thus
posted from man to man, and through divers handes, in the
ende it was brought backe againe unto the cittie of Miletum,
and delivered into the handes of Thales the seconde time :
and last of all was caried unto Thebes, and offered up unto
the temple of Apollo Ismenian. Howbeit Theophrastus
writeth, that first it was sent to the cittie of Priena, unto
Bias : and then unto Thales, in the cittie of Miletum, by
Bias consent. And after that it had passed through all
their handes, it was brought againe unto Bias : and lastely
it was sent to the cittie of Delphes. And thus much have
the best and most auncient writers written : saving that
some saye in steade of a three footed stoole, it was a cuppe
that king Croesus sent unto the cittie of Delphes. Other
saye, it was a pece of plate which Bathycles left there.
They make mention also of another private meeting betwext
Anacharsis and Solon, and of another betweene him and
Thales, where they recite, that they had this talke. Anacharsis Anacharsis
being arrived at Athens, went to knocke at Solons gate, ^^^^ Solons
saying that he was a straunger which came of purpose to see '"^^"'ig"-
him, and to desire his acquaintaunce and friendshippe. Solon
aunswered him, that it was better to seeke friendshippe in his
owne countrie. Anacharsis replied againe : Thou then that
arte at home, and in thine owne countrie, beginne to shew me
friendshippe. Then Solon wondering at his bolde ready wit,
enterteined him very curteously : and kept him a certaine
time in his house, and made him very good cheere, at the
selfe same time wherein he was most busie in governing the
common weale, and making lawes for the state thereof.
Which when Anacharsis understoode, he laughed at it, to Anacharsis
see that Solon imagined with written lawes, to bridell mens saying of
covetousnes and injustice. For such lawes, sayed he, doe Solons wntte
rightly resemble the spyders cobwebbes : bicause they take

211

SOLON

Solons talke
with Thales
at Miletum,
about ma-
nage, for
having of
children.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

holde of litle flies and gnattes which fall into them, but the
riche and mightie will breake and ronne through them at
their will. Solon answered him, that men doe justly keepe
all covenants and bargaines which one make with another,
bicause it is to the hinderance of either partie to breake
them : and even so, he dyd so temper his lawes, that he
made his cittizens knowe, it was more for their profit to
obey lawe and justice, then to breake it. Nevertheles after-
wardes, matters proved rather according to Anacharsis com-
parison, then agreable to the hope that Solon had conceyved.
Anacharsis being by happe one daye in a common assembly
of the people at Athens, sayed that he marvelled much, why
in the consultations and meetings of the Grecians, wise men
propounded matters, and fooles dyd decide them. It is
sayed moreover, that Solon was somtime in the cittie of
Miletum at Thales house, where he sayed that he could not
but marvell at Thales, that he would never marie to have
children. Thales gave him never a worde at that present :
but within fewe dayes after he suborned a straunger, which
sayed that he came but newly home from Athens, departing
from thence but tenne dayes before. Solon asked him imme-
diately. What newes there ? This straunger whom Thales
had schooled before, aunswered : None other there, saving
tliat they caried a young man to buriall, whom all the cittie
followed, for that he was one of the greatest mens sonnes of
the cittie, and the honestest man withall, who at that present
was out of the countrie, and had bene a long time (as they
sayed) abroade. O poore unfortunate father, then sayed
Solon : and what was his name ? I have heard him named,
sayed the straunger, but I have forgotten him nowe : saving
that they all sayed, he was a worthy wise man. So Solon
still trembling more and more for feare, at every aunswer of
this straunger : in the ende he could holde no longer, being
full of trouble, but tolde his name him selfe unto the
straunger, and asked him againe, if he were not the sonne
of Solon which was buried. The very same, sayed the
straunger. Solon with that, like a mad man straight beganne
to beat his head, and to saye, and doe, like men impacient
in affliction, and overcome with sorowe. But Thales laugh-
212

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

ing to sec this pageant, stayed him, and saved : Loe, Solon, SOLON
this is it that keepeth me from marying, and getting of
children : which is of such a violence, that thou seest it hath
nowe overcome thee, although otherwise thou arte stronge,
and able to wrestle Avith any. Howbeit for any thing he
hath saied unto thee, be of good cheere man, for it is but a
tale, and nothing so. Hermippus writeth, that Patsecus (he
which sayed he had Esops sowle) reciteth this story thus.
Nevertheles it lacketh judgement, and the corage of a man
also, to be afrayed to get things necessarie, fearing the losse We should
of them : for by this reckoning, he should neither esteeme not let to g
honour, goodes, nor knowledge when he hath them, for feare things nece
to lose them. For we see that vertue it selfe, which is the +o"ose the"
greatest and sweetest riches a man can have, decayeth oftimes
through sicknes, or els by phisicke, and potions. Further-
more Thales selfe, although he was not maried, was not
therefore free from this feare, onles he would confesse that
he neither loved friends, kynsemen, nor countrie : howbeit
Thales had an adopted sonne, called Cybistus, which was his Cybistus
sisters sonne. For our soule having in it a naturall inclina- Thales adoj
tion to love, and being borne aswell to love, as to feele, to ^^ sonne.
reason, or understand, and to remember : having nothing of The instinc
her owne whereupon she might bestowe that naturall love, ^^ naturall
boroweth of other. As where there is a house or inherit- *'^^'
aunce without la\\^ull heires, many times straungers, and
base borne children, doe creepe into the kinde affection of
the owner, and when they have once wonne and possessed his
love, they make him ever after to be kynde and tender over
them. So that ye shall see many times men of such a hard
and rough nature, that they like not of them that move them
to marie, and get lawful! children : and yet afterwardes are
ready to dye for feare and sorowe, when they see their
bastardes (that they have gotten of their slaves or concubines)
fall sicke or dye, and doe utter wordes farre unmeete for
men of noble corage. And some such there be, that for the
death of a dogge, or their horse, are so out of harte, and
take such thought, that they are ready to goe into the
grounde, they looke so pittiefully. Other some are cleane
contrarie, who though they have lost their children, forgone

213

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

SOLON

Proclamation
upon paine of
death no man
to move the
counsell for
the title of
Salamina.

Solon fained
madnes to
recover Sala-

Solons Elegies
of the Sala-
minians.

their friendes, or some gentleman deare unto them, yet no
sorowfull worde hath commen from them, neither have they
done any unseemely thing : but have passed the rest of their
life like wise, constant, and vertuous men. For it is not love
but weaknes, which breedeth these extreme sorowes, and
exceeding feare, in men that are not exercised, nor acquainted
to fight against fortune with reason. And this is the cause
that plucketh from them the pleasure of that they love and
desire, by reason of the continual} trouble, feare and griefe
they feele, by thincking howe in time they maye be deprived
of it. Nowe we must not arme ourselves with povertie,
against the griefe of losse of goodes : neither with lacke of
affection, against the losse of our friendes : neither with wante
of mariage, against the death of children : but we must be
armed with reason against misfortunes. Thus have we suffi-
ciently enlarged this matter. The Athenians having nowe
susteined a long and troublesome warre against the Mega-
rians, for the possession of the lie of Salamina : were in the
ende wearie of it, and made proclamation straightly com-
maunding upon payne of death, that no man should presume
to preferre any more to the counsaill of the cittie, the title
or question of the possession of the He of Salamina. Solon
could not beare this open shame, and seeing the most parte
of the lustiest youthes desirous still of warre though their
tongues were tyed for feare of the proclamation : he fayned
him selfe to be out of his wittes, and caused it to be geven
out that Solon was become a foole, and secretly he had made
certaine lamentable verses, which he had cunned without
booke, to singe abroade the cittie. So one daye he ranne
sodainly out of his house with a garland on his head, and
gotte him to the market place, where the people straight
swarmed like bees about him : and getting him up upon the
stone where all proclamations are usually made, out he
singeth these Elegies he had made, which beganne after this
sorte.

r'

I here present my selfe (an Heraulde) in this case^

which come from Salamina lande, that noble worthy place.

My minde in pelting prose^ shall never be exprest,
But songe in verse Heroycall, for so I thincke it best.
214

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

This Elegie is intituled ' Salamina,' and conteineth a SOLON
hundred verses, which are excellently well written. And
these being songe openly by Solon at that time, his friendes
incontinently praysed them beyond measure, and specially
Pisistratus : and they went about persuading the people
that were present, to credit that he spake. Hereupon the
matter was so handled amongest them, that by and by the
proclamation was revoked, and they beganne to followe the
warres with greater furie then before, appointing Solon to be
generall in the same. But the common tale and reporte is, Of the tern]
that he went by sea with Pisistratus unto the temple of of Venus
Venus, surnamed Coliade : where he founde all the women ^.^ t f- V
at a solemne feast and sacrifice, which they made of custome ^nd" Pausan
to the goddesse. He taking occasion thereby, sent from of the Athe
thence a trusty man of his owne unto the Megarians, which nians.
then had Salamina : whom he instructed to fayne him selfe a
revolted traytour, and that he came of purpose to tell them,
that if they would but goe with him, they might take all
the chief ladyes and gentlewomen of Athens on a sodaine.
The Megarians easely beleeved him, and shipped forthwith Solonsstral
certaine souldiers to goe with him. But when Solon per- geame.
ceyved the shippe under sayle comming from Salamina, he
commaunded the women to departe, and in steade of them
he put lusty beardles springalles into their apparell, and
gave them litle shorte daggers to convey under their clothes,
commaunding them to playe and daunce together upon
the sea side, untill their enemies were landed, and their
shippe at anker : and so it came to passe. For the Mega-
rians being deceyved by that they sawe a farre of, as
soone as ever they came to the shore side, dyd lande in
heapes, one in anothers necke, even for greedines to take
these women : but not a man of them escaped, for they
were slayne every mothers sonne. This stratageame being
finely handled, and to good effect, the Athenians tooke sea
straight, and costed over to the He of Salamina : which Solon wann
they tooke upon the sodaine, and wanne it without much Salamina.
resistaunce. Other saye that it was not taken after this
sorte: but that Apollo Delphicus gave Solon first such
an oracle.

215

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

SOLON Thou shalt first winne by vowes and sacrifice,

the helpe of lordes and demy goddes full bright :
Of whose dead bones, the dust engraved lies,
in westerne soyle, Asopia that hight.

By order of this oracle, he one night passed over to Sala-
mina, and dyd sacrifice to Periphemus, and to Cichris, demy
goddes of the countrie. Which done, the Athenians de-
livered him five hundred men, who willingly offered them
selves : and the cittie made an accorde with them, that if
they tooke the He of Salamina, they should beare greatest
authoritie in the common weale. Solon imbarked his
souldiers into divers fisher botes, and appointed a galliot
of thirtie owers to come after him, and he ankred hard by
the cittie of Salamina, under the ponite which looketh
towards the He of Negrepont. The Megarians which were
within Salamina, having by chaunce heard some inckling of
it, but yet knew nothing of certaintie : ranne presently in
hurly burley to arme them, and manned out a shippe to
descrie what it was. But they fondly comming within
daunger, were taken by Solon, who clapped the Megarians
under hatches fast bounde, and in their roomes put aborde
in their shippe the choycest souldiers he had of the
Athenians, commaunding them to set their course direct
upon the cittie, and to keepe them selves as close out of
sight as could be. And he him self with all the rest of his
souldiers landed presently, and marched to encounter with
the Megarians, which were come out into the fielde. Now
whilest they were fighting together, Solons men whom he
had sent in the Megarians shippe, entred the haven, and
wanne the towne. This is certainly true, and testified by that
which is shewed yet at this daye. For to keepe a memoriall
hereof, a shippe of Athens arriveth quietly at the first, and
by and by those that are in the shippe make a great showte,
and a man armed leaping out of the shippe, ronneth showt-
ing towardes the rocke called Sciradion, which is as they
come from the firme lande : and harde by the same is the
temple of Mars, which Solon built there after he had over-
come the Megarians in battell, from whence he sent backe
againe those prisoners that he had taken (which were saved

216

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

from the slaughter of the battell) without^any ransome pay- SOLON
ing. Nevertheles, the Megarians were sharpely bent still,
to recover Salamina again. Much hurte being done and Great strife
suffered on both sides: both parts in the ende made the betwixt the
Lacedemonians judges of the quarrell. But upon judge- j^^^h"^-.
ment geven, common reporte is, that Homers authoritie dyd f^^^ Salamii
Solon good service, bicause he did adde these verses to the
number of shippes, which are in the Iliades of Homer, which
he rehearsed before the judges, as if they had bene in deede
written by Homer.

Ajax that champion stowte, did leade with him in charge, Iliad, lib. 2

twelve shippes from Salamina soyle, which he had left at large,

and even those selfe same shippes, in battell did he cast

and place in order for to fight, with enmies force at last.
In that same very place, whereas it seemed then

the captaines which from Athens came, imbattelled had their men.

Howbeit the Athenians selves thinke, it was but a tale of
pleasure : and saye that Solon made it appeare to the judges,
that Philasus, and Eurysaces (both Ajax sonnes) were made
free denizens of Athens. Whereupon they gave the He of
Salamina unto the Athenians, and one of them came to
dwell in a place called Brauron, in the country of Attica :
and the other in a towne called Melitum. And for due
proofe thereof, they saye there is yet a certen canton or
quarter of the countrie of Attica, which is called the canton
of the Philaeides, after the name of this Philaeus, where
Pisistratus was borne. And it is sayed moreover, that Solon
(bicause he would throughly convince the Megarians) did
alleage that the Salaminians buried not the dead after the
Megarians manner, but after the Athenians manner. For in
Megara they burie the dead with their faces to the East : The mannt
and in Athens their faces are towards the West. Yet of burial w
Hereas the Megarian denieth it, saying that the Megarians the Megarii
dyd burie them also with their faces towards the West: Athenians,
alleaging moreover, that at Athens everie corse had his
owne beere or coffin by it selfe, and that at Megara they
dyd put three or foure corses together. They saye also
there were certaine oracles of Apollo Pythias, which dyd
greatly helpe Solon, by which the god called Salamina,
2 E 217

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

Ionia. Their strife was judged by five Arbitrators, all
Spartans borne : that is to saje, Critolaidas, Amorapharetus,
Hypsechidas, Anaxilas, and Cleomenes. Solon undoutedly
wonne great glory and honour by this exployte, yet was he
much more honoured and esteemed, for the oration he made
in defence of the temple of Apollo, in the cittie of Delphes :
declaring that it was not meete to be suffered, that the
'f DelpheT ^ Cyrrhaeians should at their pleasure abuse the sanctuarie of
the oracle, and that they should ayde the Delphians in
honour and reverence of Apollo. Whereupon the counsell
of the Amphictyons, being moved with his words and per-
suasions, proclaimed warres against the Cyrrhaeians : as divers
other doe witnesse, and specially Aristotle, in the storie he
wrote of those that wanne the Pythian games, where he
ascribeth unto Solon the honour of that determination.
Nevertheles Hermippus sayeth, Solon was not made generall
of their armie, as Evanthes Samian hath written. For
jEschines the Orator wrote no such thing of him : and in
the chronicles of the Delphians they finde, that one Alcmaeon,
and not Solon, was the generall of the Athenians. Now the
cittie of Athens had a long time bene vexed and troubled
through Cylons heynous offence, ever sence the yere that
Megacles (governour of the cittie of Athens) dyd with fayer
words handle so the confederates of the rebellion of Cylon,
which had taken sanctuarie >vithin the liberties oi the temple
of Minerva : that he persuaded them to be wise, and to pre-
sent them selves before the judges, holding by a threede, which ,
they should tye about the base of the image of the goddesse
where she stoode, bicause they should not lose their libertie.
But when they were come to the place of the honorable
goddesses so called (which be the images of the furies) comm-
ing downe to present them selves before the judges, the
threede brake of it self. Then Megacles, and other officers
his companions, layed holde on them presently, saying that
it was a manifest signe that the goddesse Miner\^a refused
to save them. So those they tooke, and all they could
laye hands of, were immediately stoned to death without
the cittie : the rest which tooke the altars for refuge, were
slaine there also. And none were saved, but such as had
218

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

made meanes to the govemours wives of the citie, to intreate SOLON
for them : which from that time forth were ever hated of
the people, and commonly called the abjects and excommuni-
cates. Who being the issues of the rebelles that rose with
Cylon, chaunced to rise again in credit, and growing to great
authoritie, they never left quarrelling and fighting con-
tinually with th' ofspring of Megacles. These factions were
greatest and highest in Solons time : who being of authoritie,
and seeing the people thus divided in two partes, he stepped
in betweene them, with the chiefest men of Athens, and did
so persuade and intreate those whom they called the abjects
and excommunicates, that they were contented to be judged.
So three hundred of the chiefest cittizens were chosen judges
to heare this matter. The accuser was Myron Phlyeian.
This matter was heard and pleaded, and by sentence of the
judges, the excommunicates were condemned. Those that
were alive, to pei-petuall exile : and the bones of them that
were dead, to be digged up, and throwen out of the confines
of the territorie of Athens. But whilest the cittie of Athens
was occupied with these uprores, the Megarians wisely caught
holde of the occasion delivered, and set upon the Athenians,
tooke from them the haven of Nysaea, and recovered againe
out of their handes, the He of Salamina. Furthermore, all
the cittie was possessed with a certen superstitious feare : for
some sayed, that sprites were come againe, and straunge
sightes were scene. The prognosticatours also sayed, they
perceived by their sacrifices, the cittie was defiled with some
abhominable and wicked things, which were of necessitie to
be purged and throwen out. Hereupon they sent into Creta
for Epimenides Phaestian, whom they reckoned the seventh Epimenides
of the wise men, at the least such as will not allowe Peri- Phaestus
ander for one of the number. He was a holy and devoute man, f^ t^^ ^
and very wise in celestiall things, by inspiration from above : excluding
by reason whereof, men of his time called him the newe Curetes, Periander.
that is to save, Prophet : and he was thought the sonne of a
Nymphe called Balte. When he was come to Athens, and
growen in friendshippewith Solon : he dyd helpe him much, and
made his waye for establishing of his lawes. For he acquainted
the Athenians to make their sacrifices much lighter, and of

219

sag

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

SOLON lesse coste: and brought the cittizens to be more moderate
in their mourning, with cutting of certaine severe and bar-
barous ceremonies, which the most parte of the women
observed in their mourning, and he ordeined certain sacri-
fices which he would have done immediately after the obse-
quies of the dead. But that which exceeded all the rest was,
that by using the cittizens unto holines and devotion, daylie
sacrifices, prayers unto the godds, purging of them selves,
and humble offerings : he wanne mens hartes by litle and
litle, to yelde them more confirmable to justice, and to be
more inclined to concorde and unity. It is reported also
that Epimenides, when he saw the haven of Munychia, and
had long considered of it : told those about him, that men
were very blinde in foreseeing things to come. For if the
Athenians (sayed he) knew, what hurt this haven would
bring them : they would eate it (as they saye) with their
teethe. It is sayed also that Thales did prognosticate such
a like thing, who after his deathe commaunded they should
burie his bodie, in some vile place of no reckoning, with in
the territorie of the Milesians, saying that one daye there
should be the place of a cittie. Epimenides therfore being
marvelously esteemed of every man for these causes, was
greatly honoured of the Athenians, and they offered him
great presents of money and other things, but he would take
nothing, and only prayed them to geve him a boughe of the
holy olyvc : which they graunted him, and so he returned
Solon pacified shortely home into Creta. Nowe that this sedition of Cylon
t Ath ^^^^ utterly appeased in Athens, for that the excommunicates

were banished the countrie : the citty fell againe into their
olde troubles and dissentions about the government of the
common weale : and they were devided into so divers partes
and factions, as there were people of sundry places and terri-
tories within the countrie of Attica. For there were the
people of the mountaines, the people of the vallies, and the
people of the sea coaste. Those of the mountaines, tooke
the common peoples parte for their lives. Those of the
valley, would a fewe of the best cittizens should carie the
swaye. The coaste men would, that neither of them should
prevaile, bicause they would have had a meane government,
'^ 220

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

an(t mingled of them both. Furthermore, the faction betwene S O L O f
the poore and riche, proceeding of their unequahtie, was at
that time very great. By reason whereof the cittie was in
great daunger, and it seemed there was no waye to pacific or
take up these controversies, unles some tyraunt happened to
rise, that would take upon him to rule the whole. For all
the common people were so sore indetted to the riche, that The miseri
either they plowed their landes, and yelded them the sixt o^ ^^}^) ^^
parte of their croppe : (for which cause they were called ^^^"^•
Hectemorii and servants) or els they borowed money of them
at usurie, upon gage of their bodies to serve it out. And if
they were not able to paye them, then were they by the law
delivered to their creditours, who kept them as bonde men
and slaves in their houses, or els they sent them into straunge
countries to be sold : and many even for very povertie were
forced to sell their owne children (for there was no lawe to
forbid the contrarie) or els to forsake their cittie and
countrie, for the extreme cruelty and hard dealing of these
abominable usurers their creditours. Insomuch as many of
the lustiest and stowtest of them, banded together in com-
panies, and incoraged one another, not to suiFer and beare
any lenger such extremitie, but to choose them a stowte and
trusty captaine, that might set them at libertie, and redeeme
those out of captivity, which were judged to be bondmen
and servants, for lacke of paying of their detts at their dayes
appointed : and so to make againe a newe division of all
landes and tenements, and wholy to chaimge and turne up
the whole state and government. Then the wisest men of
the cittie, who sawe Solon only neither partner with the Solons eqi
riche in their oppression, neither partaker with the poore in ^"*^ uprig}
their necessitie : made sute to him, that it would please him "^*''
to take the matter in hande, and to appease and pacific all
these broyles and sedition. Yet Phanias Lesbian writeth,
that he used a subtiltie, whereby he deceived both the one
and the other side, concerning the common weale. For he Solon by s
secretly promised the poore to devidethe lands againe: and tiltiesetoi
the riche also, to confirme their covenants and bargaines. ^*^^-''* *
Howsoever it fell out, it is very certain that Solon from the ridi.
beginning made it a great matter, and was very scrupulous

221

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

SOLON

Solon chosen
reformer of
the lawe, and
chief gover-
nour.

Solon refus-
eth to be a
tvranne.

Tynnondas,
and Pittacus
tyrannes.

Solons
aunswer for
tyranme.

to deale betwene them : fearing the covetousnes of the one,
and arrogancie of the other. Howbeit in the end he was
chosen governour after Philombrotus, and was made reformer
of the rigour of the lawes, and the temperer of the state and
common weale, by consent and agreement of both parties.
The rich accepted him, bicause he was no begger : the
poore did also like him, bicause he was an honest man.
They saye moreover, that one word and sentence which he
spake (which at that present was rife in every mans mouthe)
that equalitie dyd breede no stryfe : did aswell please the
riche and wealthie, as the poore and needie. For the one
sorte conceyved of this worde equalitie, that he would
measure all things according to the qualitie of the man :
and the other tooke it for their purpose, that he would
measure things by the number, and by the polle only. Thus
the captaines of both factions persuaded and prayed him,
boldly to take upon him that soveraigne authoritie, sithence
he had the whole cittie nowe at his commaundement. The
neawters also of every parte, when they sawe it very harde
to pacific these things with lawe and reason, were well con-
tent that the wisest, and honestest man, should alone have
the royall power in his handes. Some save also that there
was such an oracle of Apollo.

Sitt thou at helme, as governour to steere

to guyde our course, and rule the rowling shippe,
for thou shalt see, full many Athenians there,
will take thy parte, and after thee will trippe.

But his familier friendes above all rebuked him, saying he
was to be accompted no better then a beast, if for fear of
the name of tyranne, he would refuse to take upon him a
Kingdome : which is the most just and honorable state, if
one take it upon him that is an honest man. As in the
olde time, Tynnondas made him selfe King of those of Negre-
pont, with their consent : and as Pittacus was then presently
of those of Metelin. Notwithstanding, all these goodly
reasons could not make him once alter his opinion. And
they saye he aunswered his friendes, that principalitie and
tyrannic, was in deede a goodly place : howbeit there was no

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

way for a man to get out, when he was once entered into it. SOLON
And in certen verses that he wrote to Phocus, thus he sayed :

I neither bhishe, nor yet repent my selfe,

that have preservde, my native soyle allwayes^

and that therein (to hourde up trashe and pelfe)

no tyrants thought, could once eclypse my prayse.
No might could move, my minde to any wronge,

which might beblot, the glory of my name :

for so I thought, to live in honour longe,

and farre excell all other men for fame.

Hereby ap])eareth plainely, that even before he was chosen
reformer of the state, to stablish newe lawes : he was then of
great coimtenaunce and authoritie. But he him selfe writeth,
that many sayed of him thus, after he had refused the occa-
sion of usurping of this tyrannic :

Suer, Solon was a foole, and of a bashefull minde,

that would refuse the great good happe, which goddes to him
assignde.
The praye was in his handes, yet durst he never drawe,

the net therefore : but stoode abasht, and like a dastarde dawe.
For had not that so bene, he would (for one dayes raigne,

to be a King in Athens towne) him selfe (all quicke) have slayen.
And eke subverted quyte, his familie withall.

So sweete it is to rule the roste, yclad in princely pall.

Thus brought he common rumor to taber on his head.
Nowe, notwithstanding he had refused the kingdome, yet he
waxed nothing the more remisse nor softe therefore in
governing, neither would he bowe for feare of the great, nor
yet would frame his lawes to their liking, that had chosen
him their reformer. For where the mischief was toUerable,
he dyd not straight plucke it up by the rootes : neither dyd
he so chaunge the state, as he might have done, least if he
should have attempted to turne upsidowne the whole govern-
ment, he might afterwards have bene never able to settle and
stablishe the same againe. Therefore he only altered that,
which he thought by reason he would persuade his cittizens
unto, or els by force he ought to compell them to accept,
mingling as he saied, sower with sweete, and force with Excellent
justice. And herewith agreeth his aunswer that he made temperature.

S23

SOLON

Things hate-
full made
pleasaunt
with sweete
worcles.

Cleeriug of
detts, Solous
first lawe.

Usurie for-
bidden upon
gage of the
bodie.

The value of
money cried
up by Solon.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

afterwards, unto one that asked him, .if he had made the
best lawes he could for the Athenians ? Yea suer, sayeth he,
such as they were to receive. And this that followeth also,
they have ever since observed in the Athenian tongue : to
make certen things pleasaunt, that be hatefull, finely convey-
ing them under culler of pleasing names. As calling whores,
lemans : taxes, contributions : garrisons, gardes : prisones,
houses. And all this came up first by Solons invention, who
called cleering of detts, Seisachtheian in English, ' discharge."*
For the first chaunge and reformation he made in govern-
ment was this : he ordeined that all manner of detts past
should be cleere, and no bodye should aske his detter any
thing for the time past. That no man should thenceforth
lende money out to usurie, upon covenants for the bodye to
be bounde, if it were not repayed. Howbeit some write
(as Androtion among other) that the poore were contented
that the interest only for usury should be moderated, without
taking away the whole dett : and that Solon called this easie
and gentle discharge, Seisachtheian, with crying up the value
of money. For he raised the pound of silver, being before but
three score and thirtene Drachmes, fidl up to an hundred : so
they which were to paye great summes of money, payed by tale
as much as they ought, but with lesse number of peces, then
the dett could have bene payed when it was borowed./ And
so the detters gayned much, and the creditours lost nothing.
Nevertheles the more parte of them which have written the
same, saye, that this crying up of money, was a generall
discharge of all detts, conditions, and covenaunts upon the
same : whereto the very Poemes them selves, which Solon
wrote, doe seeme to agree. For he glorieth, and breaketh
forth in his verses, that he had taken away all bawkes and
marcks, that separated mens lands through the countrie of
Attica : and that now he had set at libertie, that which
before was in bondage. And that of the cittizens of Athens,
which for lacke of payment of their detts had bene con-
demned for slaves to their creditours, he had brought many
home again out of straunge countries, where they had bene
so long, that they had forgotten to speake their naturall
tongue : and other which remained at home in captivitie, he
224

1

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

had nowe set them all at good libertie. But while he was a SOLON
doing this, men saye a thing thwarted him, that troubled
him marvelously. For having framed an Edict for clearing Lawes woul
of all detts, and lacking only a litle to grace it with words, be kept seer
and to geve it some prety preface, that otherwise was ready ^'^If-^^^i*^
to be proelaymed : he opened him selfe somewhat to certaine P"
of his famiiiers whom he trusted (as Conon, Clinias, and
Hipponicus) and tolde them how he would not medle with
landes and possessions, but would only cleere and cut of all
manner of detts. These men before the proclamation came 111 con-
out, went presently to the money men, and borowed great sciences by
summes of money of them, and layed it out straight upon 5'''^^*' Pleven
lande. So when the proclamation came out, they kept the
landes they had purchased, but restored not the money they
had borowed. This fowle parte of theirs made Solon very
ill spoken of, and wrongfully blamed : as if he had not only
suffered it, but had bene partaker of this wrong, and injustice.
Notwithstanding he cleared him self of this slaunderous
reporte, losing five talents by his owne lawe. For it was well
knowen that so much was due unto him, and he was the first
that following his owne proclamation, dyd clearely release his A good lawe
detters of the same. Other saye he was owing fifteene talents: maker, begii
and among the same, Polyzelus the Rhodian is one that ?^^*^ to_doe
affirmeth it. Notwithstanding they ever after called Solons jj^^ ggj£g_
friendes Greocopides^ ' cutters of detts.' This lawe neither
liked the one nor the other sorte. For it greatly offended
the riche, for cancelling tlieir bondes : and it much more
misliked the poore, bicause all landes and possessions they
gaped for, were not made againe common, and every bodye
a like riche and wealthie, as Lycurgus had made the Lace-
daemonians. But Lvcurgus was the eleventh descended of
the right line from Hercules, and had many yeres bene king
of Lacedaemon, where he had gotten great authoritie, and
made him self many friends : all which things together, dyd
greatly helpe him to execute that, which he wisely had
imagined for the order of his common weale. Yet also, he
used more persuasion then force, a good witnes thereof, the
losse of his eye : preferring a lawe before his private injurie,
which hath power to preserve a cittie long in union and
•^ F 225

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

SOLON Concorde, and to make cittizens to be neither poore nor riche.
Solon could not attain to this, for he was born in a popular
state, and a man but of meane wealth : Howbeit he did what
he could possible, with the power he had, as one seeking to
winne no credit with his cittizens, but onely by his counsaile.
Now, that he got the ill will of the more parte of the cittie,
by his proclamation which he made : he him self doth wit-
nesse it, saying :

Even those which earst, did beare me frendly face,
and spake full fayer, where ever I them met :
gan nowe beginne, to looke full grym of grace,
and were (like foes) in force against me set.

As if I had done them, some spite or scorne,
or open wronge, which were not to be borne.

Nevertheles he sayeth immediately after, that with the
same authoritie and power he had, a man possibly

Could not control!, the peoples mindes :

nor still their braynes, which wrought like windes.

But shortely after, having a feeling of the benefit of his
ordinaunce, and every one forgetting his private quarrell :
they altogether made a common sacrifice, which they called
the sacrifice of Seisachthia, or discharge, and chose Solon
Solons abso- generall reformer of the lawe, and of the whole state of the
lute authority common weale, without limiting his power, but referred all
in the com- matters indifferently to his will. As the offices of state,
mun wea e. common assemblies, voyces in election, judgements in justice,
and the bodie of the Senate. And they gave him also full
power and authoritie, to sesse and taxe any of them, to
appointe the number, what time the sesse should continewe,
and to keepe, confirme, and disanull at his pleasure, any of
Solon tooke the auncient lawes and customes then in being. To beginne
awaye all withall, he first tooke away all Dracons bloudy lawes, saving

racons ^^^ murder, and manslaughter, which were to severe and

cruell. For almost he dyd ordaine but one kinde of punish-
ment, for all kinde of faultes and offences, which was death.
So that they which were condemned for idlenes, were judged
to dye. And pety larceny, as robbing mens horteyards, and
gardens of fruite, or erbes, was as severelv punished : as those
226

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

who had committed sacriledge or murder. Demades there- SOLON
fore encountered it pleasauntiy, when he sayed : that Dracons
lawes were not written with incke, but with bloud. And Draco
him selfe being asked one daye, why his punishments were
so unequal!, as death for all kinde of faultes : he aunswered.
Bicause he thought the least offence worthie so much punish-
ment : and for the greatest, he found none more grievous.
Then Solon being desirous to have the chief offices of the
cittie to remaine in riche mens handes, as already they dyd,
and yet to mingle the authoritie of government in such sorte,
as the meaner people might beare a litle swaye, which they
never could before : he made an estimate of the goodes of
every private cittizen. And those which he founde yerely Solon rateth
worthe five hundred busshells of corne, and other liquide everie cittizen
fruites and upwards, he called Pentacosiomedimnes : as to ** ^ certen
saye, five hundred busshell men of revenue. And those that ^""^"^®-
had three hundred busshells a yere, and were able to keepe a -Pcn^<^co«jo-
horse of service, he put in the second degree, and called '"^ ^"'"''
them knightes. They that might dispend but two hundred
busshells a yere, were put in the thirde place, and called
ZeiLgites. All other under those, were called Thetes^ as ye Zeugita:.
would saye, hyerlings, or craftes men living of their labour : Thetes.
whom he dyd not admit to beare any office in the cittie,
neither were they taken as free cittizens, saving they had
voyces in elections, and assemblies of the cittie, and in judge-
ments, where the people wholy judged. This at the first
seemed nothing, but afterwardes they felt it was to great
purpose : for hereby the most parte of private quarrells and
strifes that grewe among them, were in the ende layed open
before the people. For he suffered those to appeale unto
the people, which thought they had wrong judgement in
their' causes. Furthermore, bicause his lawes were written The darkues
somewhat obscurely, and might be diversely taken and inter- pf the lawe
preted : this dyd geve a great deale more authoritie and increased, the
power to the judges. For, considering all their controversies ^^g iudVe ^
could not be ended, and judged by expresse lawe : they were
driven of necessitie allwayes to romie to the judges, and
debated their matters before them. In so muche as the
judges by this meanes came to be somewhat above the lawe :

227

SOLON

The counsell
of the Areo-
pagites.

3 Counsells
erected in
Athens.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

for they dyd even expounde it as they would them selves.
Solon self doth note this equall division of the publicke
authoritie, in a place of his poesies, where he sayeth :

Suche power have I geven^ to common peoples haude,

as might become their meaue estate, with equity to stande:

and as I have not pluct, from them their dignitie,

so have I not to much increast, their small authoritie. /

Unto the riche likewise, I have allowed no more,

then well might seeme (in just conceit) sufficient for their store. ,

And so I have for both provided in such wise,

that neither shall eche other wrong, nor seeme for to despise.

Yet considering it was meete to provide for the povertie
of the common sorte of people : he suiFered any man that
would, to take upon him the defence, of any poore mans
case that had the wrong. For if a man were hurte, beaten,
forced, or otherwise wronged : any other man that would,
might lawfully sue the oftendour, and prosecute lawe against
him. And this was a wise lawe ordeined of him, to accus-
tome his cittizens to be sorie one for anothers hurte, and so
to feele it, as if any parte of his owne bodie had bene injured.
And they saye he made an aunswer on a time, agreable to
this law. For, being asked what cittie he thought best
governed : he aunswered. That cittie where such as receyve
no wronge, doe as earnestly defend wrong offered to other,
as the very wrong and injurie had bene done unto them
selves. He erected also the counsaill of the Areopagites, of
those magistrates of the cittie, out of which they did yerely
choose their govemour : and he him self had bene of that
number, for that he had bene govemour for a yere. Wher-
fore perceyving now the people were growen to a stomake,
and hawtines of minde, bicause they were cleare discharged
of their detts : he set one up for matters of state, another
counsell of an hundred chosen out of every tribe, whereof
foure hundred of them were to consult and debate of all
matters, before they were propounded to the people : that
when the great counsell of the people at large should be
assembled, no matters should be put forth, onles it had
bene before well considered of, and digested, by the counsell
of the foure hundred. INIoreover, he ordeined the higher

228

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

courte should have the chiefe authoritie and power over all SOLON
things, and chiefly to see the lawe executed and mainteined :
supposing that the common weale being settled, and stayed
with these two courtes (as with two stronge anker holdes)
it should be the lesse turmoyled and troubled, and the
people also better pacified and quieted. The most parte of
writers holde this opinion, that it was Solon which erected
the counsaill of the A.eopagites, as we have sayed, and it is
very likely to be true, for that Dracon in all his lawes and
ordinaunces made no manner of mention of the Areopagites,
but allwayes speaketh to the Ephetes (which were judges of
life and death) when he spake of murder, or of any mans
death. Notwithstanding, the eight law of the thirtenth
table of Solon sayeth thus, in these very words : All such as Other lawes
have bene banished or detected of naughty life, before Solon ^^ Solou.
made his laws, shalbe restored againe to their goodes and
good name, except those which were condemned by order of
the counsaill of the Areopagites, or by the Ephetes, or by
the Kings in open courte, for murder, and death of any man,
or for aspiring to usurpe tyrannic. These wordes to the
contrarie, seeme to prove and testifie, that the counsell of
the Areopagites was, before Solon was chosen reformer of
the lawes. For howe could offenders and wicked men be
condemned, by order of the counsell of the Areopagites
before Solon, if Solon was the first that gave it authoritie
to judge ? onles a man will saye peradventure, that he would
a litle lielpe the matter of his lawes which were obscure and
darke, and would supply that they lacked, with expounding
of the same by them. Those which shalbe founde attainted
and convicted of any matter, that hath bene heard before
the counsaill of the Areopagites, the Ephetes, or the gover-
nours of the cittie when this lawe shall come forth : shall
stand condemned still, and all other shalbe pardoned,
restored, and set at libertie. Howsoever it is, sure that
was his intent and meaning. Furthermore amongest the
rest of his lawes, one of them in deede was of his o^vne
devise : for the like was never stablished els where. And it
is that lawe, that pronounceth him defamed, and unhonest, Alaweagains
who in a civill uprore among the cittizens, sitteth still a "eawters.

229

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

SOLON looker on, and a neawter, and taketh parte with neither side.
Whereby his minde was as it should appeare, that private
men should not be only carefull to put them selves and their
causes in safety, nor yet should be careles for other mens
matters, or thineke it a vertue not to medle with the miseries
and misfortunes of their countrie, but from the beginning of
every sedition that they should joyne with those that take
the j ustest cause in hande, and rather to hazarde them selves
with such, then to tarie looking (without putting them selves
in daunger) which of the two should have the victorie.
An acte for There is another lawe also, which at the first sight me
matchingwith thinketh is very unhonest and fond. That if any man
inheritours. according to the lawe hath matched with a riche heire and
inheritour, and of him selfe is nnpotent, and unable to doe
the office of a husband, she maye lawfully lye with any whom
she liketh, of her husbands nearest kinsemen, Howbeit some
affirme, that it is a wise ma^e lawe for those, which knowing
them selves unmeete to entertaine wedlocke, will for covet-
ousnes of landes, marye with riche heires and possessioners,
and minde to abuse poore gentlewomen under the colour of
lawe : and will thineke to force and restraine nature. For,
seeing the lawe sufferefh an inheritour or possessioner thus
ill bestowed, at her pleasure to be bolde with any of her
husbands kynne : men will either leave to purchase such
manages, or if they be so careles that they will nedes marye,
it shalbe to their extreme shame and ignominie, and so shall
they deservedly paye for their greedy covetousnes. And the
lawe is well made also, bicause the wife hath not scope to all
her husbands kynsemen, but unto one choyce man whom she
liketh best of his house : to the ende that the children that
shalbe borne, shalbe atg^e least of her husbands bloude and
kynred. This also^confirmeth the same, that such a newe
maryed wife should%i» shut up with her husband, and eate
a quince with him : and t^t he also which maryeth such an
inheritour, should of duety see her thryse a moneth at the
least. For although he get no children of her, yet it is an
honour the husband doth to his wife, arguing that he taketh
her for an honest woman, that he loveth her, and that he
esteemeth of her. Besides, it taketh awaye many mislikings
230

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

and displeasures which oftentimes happen in such cases, and SOLON

keepeth love and good will waking, that it dye not utterly

betweene them. Furthermore, he tooke awaye all joynters Solon forbid-

and dowries in other manages, and willed that the wives deth jointers

should bring their husbands but three gownes only, with ^^ ownes.

some other litle moveables of small value, and without any

other thing as it were : utterly forbidding that they should

buye their husbands, or that they should make marchaundise

of manages, as of other trades to gaine, but would that man

and woman should marye together for issue, for pleasure,

and for love, but in no case for money. And for proofe

hereof, Dionysius the tyranne of Sicile, one daye aunswered Dionysius

his mother (which would needes be maried to a young man saying of

of Syracusa) in this sorte. I have power (saieth he) to "^''"^®^-

breake the lawes of Syracusa, by having the Kingdome : but

to force the law of nature, or to make mariage without the

reasonable compasse of age, that passeth my reache and

power. So is it not tolerable, and much lesse allowable also,

that such disorder should be in well ordered citties, that such

uncomely and unfit manages should be made, betweene copies

of so unequall yeres : considering there is no meete nor

necessary ende of such matches. A wise governour of a cittie,

or a judge and reformer of lawes and manners, might well

saye to an olde man that should marye with a young mayde,

as the Poet sayeth of Philoctetes :

Ah seely wretche, how trymme a man arte thou,
at these young yeres, for to be maryed nowe ?

And finding a young man in an olde riche womans house,
getting his living by riding of her errants, and waxing fat
as they saye the partridge doth by fading of the hennes :
he maye take him from thence, to bestowe him on some
young mayde that shall have neede fwa. husband. And
thus much for this matter. Bil^they greatly commend
another lawe of Solons, which forbiddeth to speake ill of A law forbid-
the dead. For it is a good and godly thing to thinke, that ding to speake
they ought not to touche the dead, no more than to touche ^^'^H ^^ ^^^
holy things: and men should take great heede to offende
those that are departed out of this world, besides it is a

J231

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

SOLON

♦Drachmae.

A lawe for
willes and
testaments.

A lawe for
womens going
abroade.

token of wisedome and civillitie, to beware of immortall
enemies. He commaunded also in the selfe same lawe, that
no man should speake ill of the living, specially in Churches,
during divine service, or in counsaill chamber of the cittie,
nor in the Theaters whilest games were a playing : upon
payne of three silver *Drachmes to be payed to him that was
injured, and two to the common treasurie. For he thought
it to much shameles boldnes, in no place to keepe in ones
choller, and moreover, that such lacked civillitie and good
manners : and yet altogether to suppresse and smother it, he
knewe it was not only a harde matter, but to some natures
unpossible. And he that maketh lawes, must have regarde
to the common possibilitie of men, if he will punishe litle,
with profitable example, and not much without some profit.
So was he marvelously well thought of, for the lawe that he
made touching willes and testaments. For before, men might
not lawfully make their heires whom they would, but the
goodes came to the children or kynred of the testatour. But
he leaving it at libertie, to dispose their goods where they
thought good, so they had no children of their owne : dyd
therein preferre friendship before kynred, and good will and
favour before necessitie and constrainte, and so made every
one lorde and master of his owne goodes. Yet he dyd hot
simply and a like allowe all sortes of giftes, howsoever they
were made : but those only which were made by men of
sound memorie, or by those whose wittes fayled them not by
extreme sicknes, or through drincks, medicines, poysonings,
charmes, or other such violence and extraordinarie meanes,
neither yet through the intisements and persuasions of
women. As thincking very wisely, there was no difference
at all betweene those that were evidently forced by constraint,
and those that were compassed and wrought by subornation
at length to doe a thing against their will, taking fraude in
this case equall with violence, and pleasure with sorowe, as
passions with madnes, which commonly have as much force
the one as the other, to drawe and drive men from reason.
He made another lawe also, in which he appointed women
their times to goe abroade into the fieldes, their mourning,
their feastes and sacrifices, plucking from them all disorder
g32

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

and wilfull libertie, which they used before. For he dyd SOLON
forbid that they should carie out of the cittie with them
above three gownes, and to take vittells with them above the
value of an halfe pennie, neither basket nor pannier above a
cubite highe : and specially he dyd forbid them to goe in
the night, other then in their coche, and that a torche should
be caried before them. He dyd forbid them also at the
buriall of the dead, to teare and spoyle them selves with
blowes, to make lamentations in verses, to weepe at the
funeralles of a straunger not being their kinseman, to sacri-
fice an oxe on the grave of the dead, to burie above three
gownes with the corse, to goe to other mens graves, but at
the very time of burying the corse : all which or the most
parte of them, are forbidden by our lawes at this daye.
Moreover, those lawes appointe a penaltie upon such women
as oifend in the same, to be distrayned for, by certaine officers
expressely named, to controll and reforme the abuses of
women, as womanish persones and faynte harted, which
suffer them selves to be overcome with such passions and
fondnes in their mourning. And perceyving that the cittie
of Athens beganne to replenish daylie more and more, by
mens repayring thither from all partes, and by reason of the
great assured safetie, and libertie that they founde there :
and also considering howe the greatest parte of the Realme
became in manner heathy, and was very barren, and that
men traffeking the seas, are not wonte to bring any mar-
chaundise to those, which can geve them nothing againe in
exchaunge : he beganne to practise that his cittizens should
give them selves unto craftes and occupations, and made a Craftes and
lawe, that the sonne should not be bounde to relieve his occupations
father being olde, onles he had set him in his youth to ^ v*""ce .
some occupation. It was a wise parte of Lycurgus (who
dwelt in a cittie where was no resorte of straungers, and had
so great a territorie as could have furnished twise as many
people, as Euripides sayeth, and moreover on all sides was
environned with a great number of slaves of the Ilotes, whom
it was needefuU to keepe still in labour and worcke con-
tinually) to have his cittizens allwayes occupied in exercises
of feates of armes, without making them to learne any other
2G 233

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

Theauthoritie
of the courte
and couusaile
of the Areo-
pagites.

SOLON science, but discharged them of all other miserable occupa-
tions and handy craftes. But Solon framing his lawes unto
things, and not things unto lawes, when he sawe the countrie
of Attica so leane and barren, that it could hardely bring
forth to susteine those that tilled the grounde only, and
therefore much more impossible to keepe so great a multi-
tude of idle people as were in Athens : thought it very
requisite to set up occupations, and to geve them counte-
naunce and estimation. Therefore he ordeined, that the
counsaill of the Areopagites, should have full power, and
authoritie to enquier how every man lived in the cittie, and
also to punishe such as they found idle people, and dyd
not labour. But this was thought to severe and straight a
lawe which he ordeined (as Heraclides Ponticus writeth)
that the children borne of common harlotts and strumpets
should not be bounde to relieve their fathers. For he that
maketh no accompt of matrimonie, plainely sheweth that he
tooke not a wife to have children, but only to satisfie his
lust and pleasure : and so such an one hath his just reward,
and is disapointed of the reverence that a father ought to
have of his children, since through his owne faulte the birth
of his childe falleth out to his reproche. Yet to saye truely,
in Solons laws touching women, there are many obsurdities,
as they fall out ill favoredly. For he maketh it lawfuU for
any man to kill an adulterer taking him with the facte.
But he that ravisheth or forcibly taketh awaye a free woman,
♦Drachmae. is only condemned to paye a hundred silver *drachmes. And
he that was the Pandor to procure her, should only paye
twenty drachmes. Onles she had bene a common strumpet
or curtisan : for such doe justefy open accesse, to all that
will hier them. / Furthermore, he doth forbid any persone
to sell his daughters or sisters, onles the father or brother
had taken them, abusing them selves before mariage. Me
thincketh it is farre from purpose and reason, with severitie
to punish a thing in one place, and over lightly to passe it
over in another : or to set some light fine on ones head for
a great faulte, and after to discharge him, as it were but a
matter of sporte. Onles they will excuse it thus, that money
being very harde and scante at that time in Athens, those
234

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

fines were then very great and grievous to paye. For in SOLON
setting out the charges of offerings which should be made
in sacrifices, he appointed a weather to be a convenient
offering, and he setteth a busshell of corne at a silver
drachme. More he ordeined, that they which wonne any of
the games at Athens, should paye to the common treasuric
an hundred drachmes. And those that wonne any of the
games Oli/mpkall, five hundred drachmes. Also he ap-
pointed that he which brought a he woulfe, should have five
drachmes, and him one drachme for reward of a she woulfe.
Whereof as Demetrius Phalerian writeth : the one was the
price of an oxe, and the other of a mutton. For, touching
the rates he ordeined in the sixtenth table of his lawes
mete for burnt sacrifices, it is likely he dyd rate them at a
much higher price, then ordinarilie they were worth : and
yet notwithstanding, the price which he setteth, is very litle
in comparison of that which they are worth at this daye.
Nowe it was a custome ever amongest the Athenians to kill
their woulfes, bicause all their countrie laye for pasture, and
not for tillage. Some there be that saye, the tribes of the The tribes of
people of Athens have not bene called after the names of ^^^ Athenians
the children of Ion, as the common opinion hath bene : but |j,°^^ u^A
that they were called after their divers trades and manners of
living, which they tooke them selves unto from the beginning.
For, such as gave them selves unto the warres, were called
Oplites : as who would saye, men of armes. Those that
wrought in their occupations, were called Ergades : as much
to saye, as men of occupation. The other two which were
husbandmen, and followed the plough, were called Teleontes :
as you would saye, labouring men. And those that kept
beastes and cattell, were called jEgicores : as much to saye,
as heard men.- Nowe, forasmuch as the whole province of
Attica was very drye, and had great lacke of water, being
not full of rivers, ronning streames, nor lakes, nor yet stored
with any great number of springs, insomuch as they are
driven there to use (through the most parte of the countrie)
water drawen out of welles made with mens handes : he made An acte for
such an order, that where there was any well within the relies,
space of an Hippicon, that every bodye within that circuite,

235

m

An acte for
planting and
setting of
trees.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

SOLON might come and drawe water onely at that well, for his use
and necessitie. Hippicon is the distaunce of foure furlonges,
which is halfe a mile : and those that dwelt further of,
should goe seeke their water in other places where they
would. But if they had digged tenne yardes deepe in their
grounde, and could finde no water in the bottome, in this
case, they might lawfully goe to their next neighbours well,
and take a pot full of water conteining six gallons, twise a
daye: judging it great reason that necessitie should be holpen,
but not that idlenes should be cherished. He appointed
also the spaces that should be kept and observed Isy those,
that would set or plant trees in their ground, as being a
man very skilfull in these matters. For he ordeined, that
whosoever would plante any kynde of trees in his grounde,
he should set them five foote a sonder one from another :
but for the figge tree and olyve tree specially, that they
should in any case be nine foote a sonder, bicause these two
trees doe spread out their branches farre of, and they cannot
stand neere other trees, but they must needes hurte them very
much. For besides that they drawe awaye the same that
doth nourishe the other trees, they cast also a certaine
moisture and steame upon them, that is very hurtefull and
incommodious. More he ordeined, that whosoever would
digge a pytte or hole in his grounde, he should digge it as
farre of from his neighbours pyt, as the pytte he digged was
■^ in depth to the bottome. And he that would set up a hive

of bees in his grounde, he should set them at the least three
hundred foote from other hives set about him before. And
of the fruites of the earth, he was contented they should
transporte and sell only oyle out of the Realme to straungers,
but no other fruite or graine. He ordeined that the
governour of the cittie should yerely proclaime open curses
against those that should doe to the contrarie, or els he him
selfe making default therein, should be fined at a hundred
Drachmae. drachmes. This ordinaunce is in the first table of Solon
lawes, and therefore we maye not altogether discredit those
which saye, they did forbid in the olde time that men should
carie figges out of the countrie of Attica, and that from thence
it came that these picke thanckes, which bewraye and accuse
236

GRECIANS AND ROiMANES

them that transported figges, were called Sijcophantcs. He SOLON
made another lawe also against the hurte that beastes might
doe unto men. Wherein he ordeined, that if a dogge did
bite any man, he that ought him should deliver to him that
was bitten, his dogge tyed to a logge of timber of foure
cu bites longe : and this was a very good devise, to make men
safe from dogges. But he was very straight in one lawe he
made, that no straunger might be made denizen and free
man of the cittie of Athens, onles he were a banished man
for ever out of his countrie, or els that he should come and
dwell there with all his familie, to exercise some crafte or
science. Notwithstanding, they saye he made not this lawe
so much to put straungers from there freedome there, as to
drawe them thither, assuring them by this ordinaunce, they
might come and be free of the cittie : and he thought more-
over, that both the one and the other would be more faith-
full to the common weale of Athens. The one of them, for
that against their willes they were driven to forsake their
countrie : and the other sorte, for that advisedly and willingly
they were contented to forsake it. This also was another of
Solons lawes, which he ordeined for those that should feast
certen dayes at the towne house of the cittie, at other mens Feasts for
cost. For he would not allow, that one man should come tonnes men
often to feasts there. And if any man were invited thither i,"i| f^th°^
to the feast, and dyd refuse to come : he dyd set a fine on
his head, as reproving the miserable niggardlines of the one,
and the presumptuous arrogancy of the other, to contemne
and despise common order. After he had made his lawes,
he dyd stablishe them to continewe for the space of one
hundred yeres, and they were ^vritten in tables of wood
called Axones^ which were made more long then broade, in Axones.
the which they were graven : whereof there remaine some
monuments yet in our time, which are to be scene in the
towne hall of the cittie of Athens. Aristotle sayeth, that
these tables were called Cyrhes. And Cratinus also the Cyrbes.
Comicall poet sayeth in one place, of Solon and Dracon :
that Cyrbes was a vessell or panne wherein they dyd frye
millet or hirse. Howbeit others saye, that Cyrhes properly
were the tables, which conteined the ordinaunces of the

237

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

SOLON sacrifices : and Axones were the other tables, that concerned
the common weale. So, all the counsels and magistrates
together dyd sweare, that they would kepe Solons lawes
them selves, and also cause them to be observed of others
"hesmo- throughly and particularly. Then every one of the Thesmo-

hetes. thetes (which were certaine officers attendaunt on the counsell,

and had speciall charge to see the lawes observed) dyd
solemnly sweare in the open market place, neere the stone
where the proclamations are proclaimed : and every of them,
both promised, and vowed openly to keepe the same lawes,
and that if any of them dyd in any one pointe breake the
said ordinaunces, then they were content that such offender
should paye to the temple of Apollo, at the cittie of Delphes,
an image of fine golde, that should waye as much as him self.
Moreover Solon seeing the disorder of the moneths, and the
moving of the moone, which followed not the course of the
sunne, and used not to rise and fall when the sunne doth,
but oftetimes in one daye, it doth both touche and passe the
sunne : he was the first that called the chaunge of the moone,
Enecdi nea, as much as to say, as ' olde and newe moone.'
Allowing that which appeared before the conjunction, to be
of the moneth past : and that which shewed it self after the
conjunction, to be of the moneth following. And he was
the first also (in my opinion) that understoode Homer
rightly, when he sayed : Then beginneth the moneth when it
endeth. The day following the chaunge, he called Neomenia,
as much to saye, as ' the newe moneth,' or ' the newe moone."
After the twenty day of the moneth which they called Icada^
he reckoned not the rest of the moneth, as increasing, but as
in the wane : and gathered it by seing the light of the moone
decreasing untill the thirtie day. Now after his lawes were
come abroade, and proclaimed, there came some daylie unto
him, which either praised them, or misliked them : and prayed
him either to take awaye, or to adde some thing unto them.
Many againe came and asked him, howe he understoode some
sentence of his lawes : and requested him to declare his
meaning, and how it should be taken. Wherefore consider-
ing howe it were to no purpose to refuse to doe it, and
againe howe it would get him much envie and ill will to
238

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

yelde thereunto : he determined (happen what would) to SOLON
winde him selfe out of these bryars, and to flye the gronings,
complaints, and quarrells of his cittizens. For he sayeth
him selfe :

Full harde it is, all mindes content to have,
and specially in matters harde and grave.

So, to convey him self a while out of the waye, he tooke
upon him to be master of a shippe in a certaine voyage, and
asked licence for tenne yeres of the Athenians to goe beyond
sea, hoping by that time the Athenians would be very well
acquainted with his lawes. So went he to the seas, and the Solons
first place of his arrivall was in Egypt, where he remained a travell.
while, as he him self sayeth.

Even there where Nylus, with his crooked crankes
by Canobe, falles into the sea banckes.

He went to his booke there, and dyd conferre a certaine
time with Psenophis Heliopolitan, and Sonchis Saltan, two
of the wisest priestes at that time that were in Egypt : whom
when he heard rehearse the storie of the lies Atlantides as
Plato writeth, he proved to put the same in verse, and dyd
send it abroade through Grece. At his departure out of
Egypt he went into Cyprus, where he had great curtesy and
friendship of one of the princes of that countrie, called
Philocyprus, who was lorde of a prety litle cittie which
Demophon (Theseus sonne) caused to be built upon the river
of Clarie, and was of a goodly strong situation, but in a very Clarius fl.
leane and barren countrie. Whereupon Solon tolde him, it
would doe better a great deale to remove it out of that place,
into a very fayer and pleasaunt valley that laye underneath
it, and there to make it larger and statelier then it was :
which was done according to his persuasion. And Solon self
being present at it, was made overseer of the buildings,
which he dyd helpe to devise and order in good sorte, aswell
in respect of pleasure, as for force and defence : insomuch as
many people came from other places to dwell there. And
herein many other lordes of the countrie dyd followe th'
example of this Philocyprus, who to honour Solon, called

239

SOLON

iEpia called
Soles.

Solon sawe
king Croesus
in the cittie
of Sardis.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

his cittie Soles, which before was called ^pia, Solon in his
Elegies maketh mention of this foundation, directing his
wordes unto Philocyprus, as followeth :

So graunt the goddes, that thou, and thine offspring

maye clyme to great, and passing princely state :

long time to live, in Soles florishing.
And that they graunt, my shippe and me good gate

when I from hence, by seas shall take my waye :

that with her harpe, dame Venus doe vouchesafe

to waft me still, untill she maye conveye

my selfe againe, into my countrey safe.
Since I have bene, the only meane and man,

which here to build, this cittie first beganne.

And as for the meeting and talke betwext him and king
Croesus, I know there are that by distance of time will prove it
but a fable, and devised of pleasure : but for my parte I will
not reject, nor condemne so famous an historic, received and
approved by so many grave testimonies. Moreover it is very
agreable to Solons manners and nature, and also not unlike to
his wisedom and magnanimitie : although in all pointes it
agreeth not with certaine tables (which they call Chronicles)
where they have busily noted the order and course of times
which even to this daye, many have curiously sought to
correct, and could yet never discusse it, nor accorde all
contrarieties and manifest repugnaunces in the same. Solon
at the desire and request of Croesus, went to see him in the
cittie of Sardis. When Solon was come thither, he seemed to
be in the selfe same taking that a man was once reported to
be : who being borne and bred up on the mayne lande, and
had never scene the sea neither farre nor neere, did imagine
every river that he sawe had bene the sea. So Solon passing
alongest Croesus palace, and meeting by the waye many of
the lordes of his courte richely apparelled, and carying great
traines of serving men, and souldiers about them : thought
ever that one of them had bene the King, untill he was
brought unto Croesus selfe. Who was passing richely
arrayed, what for precious stones and juells, and for riche
cullered silkes, layed on with curious goldsmithes worke, and
all to shewe him self to Solon in most stately, sumptuous,

240

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

and magnificent manner. Who perceiving by Solons repayre SOLON
to his presence, that he shewed no manner of signe, nor
countenance of woundring, to see so great a state before
him, neither had geven out any word neere or likely to that
which Croesus looked for in his owne imagination, but rather
had delivered speaches for men of judgement and under-
standing to know, how inwardly he much did mislike Croesus
foolish vanitie and base minde : then Croesus commaunded all
his treasuries to be opened where his golde and silver laye,
next that they should shewe him his riche and sumptuous
wardroppes, although that needed not : for to see Croesus
self, it was enough to discerne his nature and condition.
After he had seene all over and over, being brought againe
unto the presence of the King : Croesus asked him, if ever he Croesus ques-
had seene any man more happy than him self was ? Solon ^^^"^ *? Solon
aunswered him, I have : and that was one Tellus a cittizen jjappjn'^f
of Athens, who was a marvelous honest man, and had left
his children behind him in good estimation, and well to live, Solon
and lastly, was most happy at his death, by dying honorably esteemed
in the field, in defence of his countrie. Croesus hearing this ^ ^.^ ^
aunswer, beganne to judge him a man of litle witte, or of
grosse understanding, bicause he did not thincke that to have
store of gold and silver, was the only joye and felicitie of
the world, and that he would preferre the life and death of
a meane and private man as more happy, than all the riches
and power of so mightie a King. Notwithstanding all this,
Croesus yet asked him again : What other man beside Tellus
he had seene happier than him self? Solon aunswered him,
that he had seene Cleobis and Biton, which were both Cleobis and
brethern, and loved one another singularly well, and their Biton, happy
mother in such sorte : that upon a solemne festivall daye, "^^"'
when she should goe to the temple of luno in her coche
drawen with oxen : bicause they taried to long ere they
could be brought, they both willingly yoked them selves by
the necks, and drue their mothers coche in stead of the oxen,
which marvelously rejoyced her, and she was thought most
happy of all other, to have borne two such sonnes. After-
wards when they had done sacrifice to the goddesse, and
made good cheere at the feast of this sacrifice, they went to
2 H 241

SOLON

Solon com-
mendeth the
meane.

No man
liappie before
his ende.

^sops saying
to Solon.

Solons
aunswer to
iSlsope.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

bed : but they rose not againe the next morning, for they
were found dead >vithout suffering hurte or sorowe, after
they had receyved so much glorie and honour. Croesus
then could no longer bridell in his pacience, but breaking
out in ch oiler, sayed unto him : Why, doest thou recken me
than in no degree of happy men ? Solon would neither
flatter him, nor further increase his heate, but aunswered
him thus : O King of Lydians, the godds have geven us
Grecians all things in a meane, and amongest other things
chiefly, a base and popular wisedome, not princely nor noble :
which, considering howe mans life is subject to infinite
chaunges, doth forbid us to trust or glorie in these worldly
riches. For time bringeth daylie misfortunes unto man,
which he never thought of, nor looked for. But when the
goddes have continued a mans good fortune to his end, then
we thinke that man happy and blessed, and never before.
Otherwise, if we should judge a man happy that liveth,
considering he is ever in daunger of chaunge during life : we
should be much like to him, who judgeth him the victorie
before hande, that is still a fighting, and maye be over-
comen, having no suertie yet to carie it away. After Solon
liad spoken these words, he departed from the Kings
presence, and returned backe againe, leaving king Croesus
off'ended, but nothing the wiser, nor amended. Nowe ^sope
that wrote the fables, being at that time in the cittie of
Sardis, and sent for thither by the King, who entertained
him very honorably : was very sorie to see that the King
had geven Solon no better entertainement : so by waye of
advise he said unto him : O Solon, either we must not come
to princes at all, or els we must seeke to please and content
them. But Solon turning it to the contrary, aunswered
him : Either we must not come to princes, or we must needes
tell them truely, and counsell them for the best. So Croesus
made light accompt of Solon at that time. But after he
had lost the battell against Cyrus, and that liis cittie was
taken, him self became prisoner, and was bounde fast to a
gibbet, over a great stacke of wood, to be burnt in the sight
of all the Persians, and of Cyrus his enemie : he then cried
out as lowde as he could, thryse together : O Solon. Cyrus
242

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

being abashed, sent to aske him, whether this Solon he only SOLON
cried upon in his extreme miserie, was a god or man. Croesus King Croesus
kept it not secret from him, but sayed : He was one of the wordes of
wise men of Grece, whom I sent for to come unto me on a ^olon hang-
certaine time, not to learne any thing of him which I stoode "-f^jg^ ^^ ^g
in neede of, but only that he might witnesse my felicitie, burnt,
which then I dyd enjoye : the losse whereof is nowe more
hortefull, than the enjoying of the same was good or profit-
able. But nowe (alas) to late I know it, that the riches I Riches are
possessed then, were but words and opinion, all which are but wordes
turned now to my bitter sorowe, and to present and remediles ^ opinion,
calamitie. Which the wise Grecian considering then, and
foreseeing a farre of by my doings at that time, the instant
miserie I suffer nowe : gave me warning I should marke the
ende of my life, and that I should not to farre presume of
my selfe, as puffed up then with vaine glorie of opinion of
happines, the ground therof being so slippery, and of so
litle suertie. These wordes being reported unto Cyrus, who
was wiser than Croesus, and seeing Solons saying confirmed
by so notable an example : he dyd not only deliver Croesus
from present perill of death, but ever after honoured him so
long as he lived. Thus had Solon glorie, for saving the
honour of one of these Kings : and the life of the other, by
his grave and wise counsaill. But during the time of his
absence, great seditions rose at Athens amongest the inhabi- Sedition at
tants, who had gotten them severall heades amongest them : Athens in
as those of the vallie had made Lycurgus their head. The '^"^^^^
coast men, Megacles, the sonne of Alcmaeon. And those of
the mountaines, Pisistratus : with whom all artificers and
crafts men living of their handle labour were joyned, which
were the sto^vtest against the riche. So that notwithstand-
ing the cittie kept Solons lawes and ordinaunces, yet was
there not that man but gaped for a chaunge, and desired to
see things in another state : either parties hoping their
condition would mende by chaunge, and that every of them
should be better than their adversaries. The whole common
weale broyling thus with troubles, Solon arrived at Athens, Solon return-
where every man did honour and reverence him, howbeit he eth to Athens,
was no more able to speake alowde in open assembly to the

243

Pisistratus
wicked crafte
and subtiltie.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

SOLON people, nor to deale in matters as he had done before, bicause
his age would not suffer him : and therefore he spake with
every one of the heades of the severall factions a parte,
trying if he could agree and reconcile them together againe.
Whereunto Pisistratus seemed to be more willing then any
of the rest, for he was curteous, and marvelous fayer spoken,
and shewed him selfe besides, very good and pittiefull to the
poore, and temperate also to his enemies : further, if any
good quality were lacking in him, he dyd so finely counter-
feate it, that men imagined it was more in him, than in
those that naturally had it in them in deede. As to be a
quiet man, no medler, contented with his owne, aspiring no
higher, and hating those which would attempt to chaunge
the present state of the common weale, and would practise
any innovation. By this arte and fine manner of his, he
deceyved the poore common people. Howbeit Solon found
him straight, and sawe the marke he shot at : but yet hated
him not at that time, and sought still to winne him, and
bring him to reason, saying oftetimes, both to him selfe, and
to others. That who so could plucke out of his head the
worme of ambition, by which he aspired to be the chiefest,
and could heale him of his greedy desire to rule : there could
not be a man of more vertue, or a better cittizen than he
Thespis a would prove. About this time beganne Thespis to set out
maker of his tragedies, which was a thing that much delited the people
tragedies. £qj. ^|^g rarenes thereof, being not many poets yet in number,
to strive one against another for victorie, as afterwards
there were. Solon being naturally desirous to heare and
learne, and by reason of his age seeking to passe his time
awaye in sportes, in musicke, and making good cheere more
then ever he dyd : went one daye to see Thespis, who played
a parte him selfe, as the olde facion of the Poets was, and
after the playe was ended, he called him to him, and asked
Solon reprov- him : if he were not ashamed to lye so openly in the face
ed Thespis of the worlde. Thespis aunswered him, that it was not
for lying. materiall to doe or saye any such things, considering all was
but in sporte. Then Solon beating the grounde with his
staffe he had in his hande : But if we commend lying in
sporte (quoth he) we shall finde it afterwards in good earnest,
244

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

in all our bargaines and dealings. Shortely after Pisistratus
having wounded him self, and bloudied all his bodie over,
caused his men to carie him in his coche into the market
place, where he put the people in an uprore, and tolde them
that they were his enemies that thus traiterously had handled
and arraied him, for that he stoode with them about the
governing of the common weale : insomuch as many of them
were marvelously offended, and mutined by and by, crying
out it was shamefully done. Then Solon drawing neere
sayed unto him, O thou sonne of Hippocrates, thou doest
ill favoredly counterfeate the persone of Homers Vlysses : for
thou hast whipped thy self to deceive thy cittizens, as he did
teare and scratch him self, to deceive his enemies. Not-
withstanding this, the common people were still in uprore,
being ready to take amies for Pisistratus : and there was a
generall counsell assembled, in the which one Ariston spake,
that they should graunte fiftie men, to cary holberds and
mases before Pisistratus for garde of his persone. But Solon
going up into the pulpit for orations, stowtely invayed against
it : and persuaded the people with many reasons, like unto
these he wrote afterwards in verse :

Eche one of you (O men) in private actes^
can playe the foxe, for slye and subtill craft '

But when you come, yfore (in all your factes)
then are you blinde, dull witted and bedaft.

For pleasaunt speache, and painted flatterie,
beguile you still, the which you never spye.

But in the ende, seeing the poore people dyd tumult still,
taking Pisistratus parte, and that the riche fled here and
there, he went his waye also, saying : he had shewed him
selfe wiser than some, and hardier than other. Meaning,
wiser than those which sawe not Pisistratus reache and fetche :
and hardier than they which knewe very well he dyd aspire
to be King, and yet nevertheles durst not resist him. The
people went on with the motion of Ariston, and authorised
the same, touching the graunte of halberders : limiting no
number, but suffered him to have about him and to assemble,
as many as he would, untill such time as he had gotten
possession of the castell. Then the cittie was marvelously

245

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

SOLON affrayed and amazed : and presently Megacles, and all those
which were of the house of the Alcmeonides dyd flye. Solon,
who for yeares was now at his last cast, and had no man to
sticke unto him : went notwithstanding into the market
place, and spake to the cittizens whom he found there, and
rebuked their beastlines, and faynte cowardly hartes, and
encouraged them not to lose their libertie. He spake at
that time notably, and worthie memorie, which ever after
was remembred. Before sayed he, you might more easely
have stayed this present tyrannic : but nowe that it is
already facioned, you shall winne more glorie, utterly to
suppresse it. But for all his goodly reasons, he found no
man that would hearken to him, they were all so amazed.
Wherefore he hied him home againe, and tooke his weapons
out of his house, and layed them before his gate in the
middest of the streete, saying : For my parte, I have done
what I can possible, to helpe and defend the lawes and
liberties of my countrie. So from that time he betooke
him selfe unto his ease, and never after delt any more in
matters of state, or common weale. His friends dyd counsel!
8olons him to flye : but all they could not persuade him to it. For

libertie and he kept his house, and gave him selfe to make verses : in
constancie. which he sore reproved the Athenians faults, saying :

If presently, your burden heavy be :
yet murmure not against the godds therefore.

The fault is yours, as you your selves maye see,
which graunted have of mightie mars the lore,
to such as nowe, by your direction
doe holde your necks, in this subjection.

His friends hereupon dyd wame him, to beware of such
speaches, and to take hede what he sayed : least if it came
unto the tyrannes eares, he might put him to death [for it.
And further, they asked him wherein he trusted, that he
spake so boldly. He aunswered them : In my age. Howbeit
Pisistratus after he had obteined his purpose, sending for
him upon his worde and faith, dyd honour and entertaine
him so well, that Solon in the ende became one of his coun-
saill, and approved many things which he dyd. For Pisis-
tratus him selfe dyd straightly keepe, and caused his friends

246

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

to keepe Solons lawes. Insomuch as when he was called by SOLON

proces into the courte of the Areopagites for a murther,

even at that time when he was a tyrante : he presented him

selfe very modestly to aunswer his accusation, and to purge

him selfe thereof. But his accuser let fall the matter, and

followed it no further. Pisistratus him selfe also dyd make

newe lawes : as this. That he that had bene maymed, and A good lawe

made lame of any member in the warres, should be main- for reward of

teined all his life long, at the common charges of the cittie. service.

The selfe same was before decreed by Thersippus (as Hera-

clides writeth) by Solons persuasion : who dyd preferre it to

the counsell. Pisistratus afterwards tooke holde of the

motion, and from thence forth made it a generall lawe.

Theophrastus sayeth also, it was Pisistratus, and not Solon,

that made the lawe for idlenes : which was the only cause

that the countrie of Attica became more fruitefull, being

better manured : and the cittie of Athens waxed more quiet.

But Solon having begonne to write the storie of the lies

Atlantides in verse (which he had learned of the wise men of

the cittie of Sais in Egypt, and was very necessary for the

Athenians) grewe wearye, and gave it over in mid waye :

not for any matters or busines that troubled him, as Plato

sayed, but only for his age, and bicause he feared the tedi-

ousnes of the worke. For otherwise he had leysure enough,

as appeareth by his verses where he sayeth :

I growe olde, and yet I learne still.

And in another place where he sayeth,

Nowe Venus yeldes me swete delights,

and Bacchus lends me comfort still :

the muses eke, refreshe my sprights,

and much relieve my weary wiD.
These be the pointes of perfect ease,

which all mens mindes oftetimes doe please.

Plato afterwards for beawtifying of the storie and fables
of the lies Atlantides, was desirous to dilate them out at
length, as if he would by waye of speache have broken up
a field or laye lande of his owne, or that this gifte had
descended to him of right from Solon. He beganne to raise

247

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

SOLON up a stately fronte unto the same, and enclosed it with high
walles, and large squared courtes at the entrie thereof : such
was it, as never any other worke, fable, or poeticall invention
had ever so notable, or the like. But bicause he beganne a
litle to late, he ended his life before his worke, leaving the
readers more sorowfull for that was left unwritten, than they
tooke pleasure in that they founde written. For even as in
the cittie of Athens, the temple of lupiter Olympian only
remained unperfect : so the wisdome of Plato (amongest
many goodly matters of his that have come abroade) left
none of them unperfect, but the only tale of the lies Atlan-
tides. Solon lived long time after Pisistratus had usurped
the tyrannic, as Heraclides Ponticus writeth. Howbeit
Phanias Ephesian writeth, that he lived not above two yeres
after. For Pisistratus usurped tyrannicall power in the yere
that Comias was chief governour in Athens. And Phanias
writeth, that Solon dyed in the yere that Hegestratus was
governour, which was the next yere after that. And where
some saye, the ashes of his laodie were after his death
strawed abroade through the He of Salamina: that
seemeth to be but a fable, and altogether untrue.
Nevertheles it hath bene written by many notable
authours, and amongest others, by Aristotle
the philosopher.

THE EXDE OF SOLONS LIFE

248

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

THE LIFE OF PUBLIUS
VALERIUS PUBLICOLA

OWE we have declared what Solon was, we
have thought good to compare him with
Publicola, to whom the Romaine people
for an honour gave that surname : for
he was called before Publius Valerius,
descended from that auncient Valerius,
who was one of the chiefest worckers and
meanes, to bring the Romaines and the
Sabynes that were mortall enemies, to joyne together as
one people. For it was he that most movea the two Kings
to agree, and joyne together. Publicola being descended of
him, whilest the Kings dyd rule yet at Rome, was in very
great estimation, aswell for his eloquence, as for his riches :
using the one rightly and freely, for the maintenaunce of
justice, and the other liberally and curteously, for the relief
of the poore. So that it was manifest, if the Realme came
to be converted into a publicke state, he should be one of
the chiefest men of the same. It chaunced that king
Tarquine surnamed the prowde, being come to the crowne
by no good lawfuU meane, but contrarylie by indirect and
wicked wayes, and behaving him selfe not like a King, but
like a cruell tyrante : the people much hated and detested
him, by reason of the death of Lucretia (which killed her
selfe for that she was forcibly ravished by him) and so the
whole cittie rose and rebelled against him. Lucius Brutus
taking upon him to be the head and captaine of this insur-
rection and rebellion, did joyne first with this Valerius : who
dyd greately favour and assist his enterprise, and did helpe
him to drive out king Tarquine with all his house and
familie. Nowe whilest they were thincking that the people
would chuse some one alone to be chief ruler over them,
m stead of a King : Valerius kept him selfe quiet, as yelding
2 1 249

The house of
P. Valerius.

Tarquinius
Superbus.

Valerius,
Brutus com-
panion, in
expulsingthe
Kings.

Lucius

Brutus.

Tarquinius

CoUatinus

Consuls.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

PUBLICOLA willingly unto Brutus the first place, who was meetest for it,
having bene the chief authour and worcker of their recovered
libertie. But when they sawe the name of Monarchie (as
much to saye, as soveraintie alone) was displeasaunt to the
people, and that they would like better to have the rule
devided unto two, and how for this cause they would rather
choose two Consuls : Valerius then beganne to hope, he
should be the seconde persone with Brutus. Howbeit this
hope fayled him. For against Brutus will, Tarquinius
CoUatinus (the husband of Lucretia) was chosen Consul with
him : not bicause he was a man of greater vertue, or of
better estimation than Valerius. But the noble men of the
cittie fearing the practises of the Kings abroade, which
sought by all the fayer and flattering meanes they could to
returne againe into the cittie : dyd determine to make such
an one Consul, whom occasion forced to be their hard and
heavy enemie, persuading them selves that Tarquinius
CoUatinus would for no respect yeld unto them. Valerius
tooke this matter grevously, but they had a mistrust in him,
as if he would not doe any thing he could, for the benefit of
his countrie : notwithstanding he had never any private
injurie offered him by the tyrannes. Wherfore, he repaired
no more unto the Senate to pleade for private men, and
wholy gave up to medle in matters of state : insomuch as he
gave many occasion to thincke of his absence, and it troubled
some men much, who feared least upon this his misliking
and withdrawing, he would fall to the Kings side, and so
bring all the cittie in an uprore, considering it stoode then
but in very tickle termes. But when Brutus, who stoode in
jealousie of some, would by othe be assured of the Senate,
and had appointed them a daye solemnely to take their
othes upon the sacrifices : Valerius then with a good cheere-
full countenaunce came into the market place, and was the
first that tooke his othe he would leave nothing undone,
that might prejudice the Tarquines, but with all his able
power he would fight against them, and defend the libertie
of the cittie. This othe of his marvelously rejoyced the
Senate, and gave great assurance also to the Consuls, but
specially, bicause his dedes dyd shortly after performe his
250

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

wordes. For there came ambassadours to Rome which PUBLICOLA
brought letters from king Tarquine, full of sweete and The first
lowly speaches to winne the favour of the people, with com- embassiate of
mission to use all the mildest meanes they could, to dulce kingTarquine
and soften the hardened harts of the multitude : who ^^^ Realm"°^
declared how the King had left all pryde and crueltie, and
ment to aske nought but reasonable things. The Consuls
thought best to geve them open audience, and to suffer
them to speake to the people. But Valerius was against it,
declaring it might perill the state much, and deliver occasion
of new sturre unto a multitude of poore people, which were
more afFrayed of warres, then of tyrannic. After that, there
came other ambassadours also, which sayed that Tarquine Another em-
would from thenceforth for ever geve over and renounce his bassiate from
title to the Kingdome, and to make any more warres, but ^^^^jP^ ®:
besought them only, that they would at the least deliver ^oodes.
him and his friends their money and goods, that they might
have wherewithall to keepe them in their banishment.
Many came on a pace, and were very ready to yeld to this
request, and specially Collatinus, one of the Consuls who
dyd favour their motion. But Brutus that was a fast and
resolute man, and very fierce in his harte, ranne immediately
into the market place, crying out that his fellowe Consul
was a traytour, and contented to graunt the tyrannes matter,
and meanes to make warre upon the cittie, where in deede
they deserved not so much,- as to be relieved in their exile.
Hereupon the people assembled together, and the first that
spake in this assembly, was a private man called Gaius
Minutius, who speaking unto Brutus, and to the whole
assembly, sayed unto them : O noble Consul and Senate, Good counsel]
handle so the matter, that the tyrannes goods be rather in o^ Minutius.
your custodie to make warre with them, than in theirs,
to bring warre upon your selves. Notwithstanding, the
Romaines were of opinion, that having gotten the liberty,
for which they fought with the tyrannes : they should not
disapoint the offered peace, with keeping backe their goodes,
but rather they should throwe their goods out after them.
Howbeit this was the least parte of Tarquines intent, to
seeke his goodes againe : but under pretence of that demaund,

251

PUBLICOLA

Tarquines
ambassadours
practise
treason.

The Aquilii
and Vitellii
with Brutus
sonnes, tray-
tours to their
countrie.

The confede-
racy con-
firmed with
drinking of
mans blond.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

he secretly corrupted the people, and practised treason,
which his ambassadours followed, pretending only to get
the Kings goodes and his favourers together, saying, that
they had already solde some parte, and some parte they
kept, and sent them daylie. So as by delaying the time in
this sorte with such pretences, they had corrupted two of
the best and auncientest houses of the cittie : to wit, the
familie of the Aquilians, whereof there were three Senatours :
and the familie of the Vitellians, whereof there were two
Senatours : all which by their mothers, were Consul Colla-
tinus nephewes. The Vitellians also were allied unto Brutus,
for he had maried their o^vne sister, and had many children
by her. Of the which the Vitellians had drawen to their
stringe, two of the eldest of them, bicause they familiarly
frequented together, being cosin germaines : whom they had
intised to be of their conspiracie, allying them with the house
of the Tarquines, which was of great power, and through
the which they might persuade them selves to rise to great
honour and preferment by meanes of the Kings, rather than
to trust to their fathers willfull hardnes. For they called
his severitie to the wicked, hardnes : for that he would never
pardone any. Furthermore Brutus had fayned him selfe
mad, and a foole of long time for safety of his life, bicause
the tyrannes should not put him to death : so that the
name of Brutus only remained. After these two young men
had geven their consent to be of the confederacie, and had
spoken with the Aquilians : they all thought good to be
bounde one to another, with a great and horrible othe,
drincking the bloude of a man, and shaking hands in his
bowells, whom they would sacrifice. This matter agreed
upon betweene them, they met together to put their sacri-
fice in execution, in the house of the Aquilians. They had
fittely pickt out a darcke place in the house to doe this
sacrifice in, and where almost no bodye came : yet it hap-
pened by chaunce, that one of the servants of the house
called Vindicius, had hidden him selfe there, unknowing to
the traytours, and of no set purpose, to spye and see what
they dyd, or that he had any manner of inckling thereof
before : but falling by chaunce upon the matter, even as the

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

traytours came into that place with a countenaunce to doe PUBLICOL.-'
some secret thing of importaimce, fearing to be seene, he A'indicius
kept him selfe close, and laye behinde a coffer that was heareth all
there, so that he sawe all that was done, and what they their treason,
sayed and determined. The conclusion of their counsell in
the ende was this, that they would kill both the Consuls : The conclu-
and they wrote letters to Tarquinius advertising the same, ^^^^ ^^ t^^i^
which tliey gave unto his ambassadours, being lodged in the *^®^^'*"-
house of the Aquilians, and were present at this conclusion.
With this determination they departed from thence, and
Vindicius came out also as secretly as he could, being mar-
velously troubled in minde, and at a maze howe to deale in
this matter. For he thought it daungerous (as it was in
deede) to goe and accuse the two sonnes unto the father
(which was Brutus) of so wicked and detestable a treason,
and the nephewes unto their uncle, which was Collatinus.
On the other side also, he thought this was a secret, not to
be imparted to any private persone, and not possible for
him to conceale it, that was bounde in duety to reveale it.
So he resolved at the last to goe to Valerius to bewraye this
treason, of a speciall affection to this man, by reason of his
gentle and curteous using of men, geving easy accesse and
audience unto any that came to speake with him, and
specially for that he disdained not to heare poore mens
causes. Vindicius being gone to speake with him, and having Viudicius
tolde him the whole conspiracy before his brother Marcus hewrayeth
Valerius, and his wife, he was abashed and fearefuU withall : *^^ treason ^
whereupon he stayed him least he should slippe awaye, and
locked him in a chamber, charging his wife to watche the
doore, that no bodie went in nor out unto him. And willed
his brother also, that he should goe and beset the Kings
palace round about, to intercept these letters if it were pos-
sible, and to see that none of their servants fled. Valerivis
selfe being followed (according to his manner) with a great
traine of his friendes and people that wayted on him, went
straight unto the house of the Aquilians, who by chaunce
were from home at that time : and entring in at the gate,
without let or trouble of any man, he founde the letters
in the chamber, where king Tarquines ambassadours lave.

253

PUBLICOLA

Titus and
Valerius,
Brutus

Brutus
seeth his
owne sonnes
punished and
executed.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

Whilest he was thus occupied, the Aquilians having intelli-
gence thereof, ranne home immediately, and founde Valerius
comming out at their gate. So they would have taken those
letters from him by force, and strong hande. But Valerius
and his company dyd resist them, and moreover hudded them
with their gownes over their heads, and by force brought
them (doe what they could) into the market place. The
like was done also in the Kings palace, where Marcus
Valerius founde other letters also wrapt up in certaine far-
dells for their more safe cariage, and brought away with him
by force into the market place, all the Kings servaunts he
founde there. There the Consuls having caused silence to
be made, Valerius sent home to his house for this bondman
Vindicius, to be brought before the Consuls : then the tray-
tours were openly accused, and their letters redde, and they
had not the face to aunswer one worde. All that were
present, being amazed, honge downe their heades, and be-
helde the grounde, and not a man durst once open his
mouth to speake, excepting a fewe, who to gratifie Brutus,
beganne to say that they should banishe them : and Colla-
tinus also gave them some hope, bicause he fell to weeping,
and Valerius in like manner for that he held his peace. But
Brutus calling his sonnes by their names : Come on (sayed
he) Titus, and thou Valerius, why doe you not aunswer to
that you are accused of? and having spoken thryse unto
them to aunswer, when he sawe they stoode mute, and sayed
nothing : he turned him to the sergeants, and sayed unto
them : They are nowe in your handes, doe justice. So soone
as he had spoken these wordes, the sergeants layed holde
immediately upon the two young men, and tearing their
clothes of their backs, bounde their hands behinde them,
and then whipped them with roddes : which was such a
pittiefull sight to all the people, that they could not finde
in their hartes to behold it, but turned them selves another
waye, bicause they would not see it. But contrariwise, they
saye that their owne father had never his eye of them,
neither dyd chaunge his austere and fierce countenaunce,
with any pittie or naturall affection towards them, but sted-
fastly dyd beholde the punishement of his owne children,
254

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

untill they were layed flat on the grouiide, and both their PUBLICOLA
heads striken of with an axe before him. When they were
executed, Brutus rose from the benche, and left the execu-
tion of the rest unto his fellowe Consul. This was such an Brutus,
acte, as men cannot sufficiently prayse, nor reprove enough, praised and
For either it was his excellent vertue, that made his minde rfP^?^^A^*^J
so quiet, or els the greatnes of his miserie that tooke awaye ^^^ sonnes
the feeling of his sorowe : whereof neither the one nor the
other was any small matter, but passing the common nature
of man, that hath in it both divinenes, and somtime beastly
brutishnes. But it is better the judgement of men should
commend his fame, then that the affection of men by
their judgements should diminishe his vertue. For the
Romaines holde opinion, it was not so great an acte done of
Romulus first to build Rome : as it was for Brutus to
recover Rome, and the best libertie thereof, and to renewe
the auncient government of the same. When Brutus was
gone, all the people in the market place remained as they
had bene in a maze, full of feare and wounder, and a great
while without speaking to see what was done. The Aquilians
straight grew bold, for that they sawe the other Consull
Collatinus proceede gently, and mildly against them : and Collatinus
so made petition they might have time geuen them to softnes
aunswer to the articles they were accused of, and that they P6"^ous.
might have their slave and bondman Vindicius delivered
into their handes, bicause there was no reason he should
remaine with their accusers. The Consul seemed willing
to yeld thereto, and was ready to breake up the assembly
thereupon. But Valerius sayed, he would not deliver Vin-
dicius (who was among the assembly that attended upon his
persone) and stayed the people besides for departing awaye,
least they should negligently let those escape that had so
wickedly sought to betraye their countrie. Untill he him
selfe had layed handes upon them, calling upon Brutus to
assist him, with open exclamation against Collatinus, that Valerius
he dyd not behave him selfe like a just and true man, seeing boldly ap-
his fellowe Brutus was forced for justice sake to see his owne peacheth
sonnes put to death : and he in contrary manner, to please a of jn^ust^ce
fewe women, sought to let goe manifest traitours, and open

255

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

PUBLICOLA enemies to their countrie. The Consul being offended here-
>vith, commaunded they should bring awaye the bondman
Vindicius. So the sergeants making waye through the
prease, layed handes upon him to bring him awaye with
them, and beganne to strike at them which offered to resist
them. But Valerius friends stept out before them, and put
them by. The people showted straight, and cried out for
Brutus : who with this noyse returned againe into the market
place, and after silence made him, he spake in this wise. For
mine own children, I alone have bene their sufficient judg,
to see them have the law according to their deservings : the
rest I have left freely to the judgment of the people.
Wherefore (sayed he) if any man be disposed to speake, let
him stand up, and persuade the people as he thinketh best.
Then there needed no more wordes, but only to hearken
what the people cried : who with one voyce and consent
condemned them, and cried execution, and accordingly they
had their heades striken of. Now was Consull Collatinus
long before had in some suspition, as allied to the Kings,
and disliked for his surname, bicause he was called Tar-
quinius : who perceyving him selfe in this case much hated
Collatinus and mistrusted of the people, voluntarely y elded up his
resigneth his Consulshippe, and departed the cittie. The people as-
**dT rt^th s^'^^li"g then them selves, to place a successour in his
Rome. roome : they chose Valerius in his roome, without the

,j , . contradiction of any, for his faithfull travaill and dili-

chosen Consul g^nce bestowed in this great matter. Then Valerius judg-
in his place, ing that Vindicius the bondman had well deserved also
some recompence, caused him not only to be manumised
by the whole graunte of the people, but made him a
Vindicius the free man of the cittie besides : and he was the first bond-
first bondman j^^n manumised, that was made cittizen of Rome, with per-
manumise . mission also to geve his voyce in all elections of officers,
in any company or tribe he would be enrolled in. Long
time after that, and very lately, Appius to currie favour
with the common people, made it lawfull for bondmen
manumised, to geve their voyces also in elections, as other
cittizens dyd : and unto this daye the perfect manumising
and freeing of bondmen, is called Vindicta, after the name
256

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

of this Vindicius, that was then made a free man. These PUBLICOLA
things thus passed over, the goodes of the Kings were geven Vindicta so
to the spoyle of the people, and their palaces were rased called, by
and overthrowen. Nowe amongest other lands, the goodliest '"^ason of
parte of the field of Mars was belonging unto king Tarquine : I'^Qicius.
the same they consecrated forthwith unto the god Mars, and Tarquines
not long before they had cut downe the wheat thereof. The field conse-
sheaves being yet in shocks in the field, they thought they ^^*^^ *^
might not grinde the wheate, nor make any commoditie of the ^^^'
profit thereof : wherefore they threwe both corne and sheaves
mto the river, and trees also which they had hewen downe
and rooted up, to the end that the field being dedicated to
the god Mars, should be left bare, without bearing any
fruite at all. These sheaves thus throw en into the river,
were caried down by the streame not farre from thence, unto
a forde and shallowe place of the water, where they first dyd
staye, and dyd let the other which came after, that it could
goe no further : there these heapes gathered together, and
laye so close one to another, that they beganne to sincke
and settle fast in the water. Afterwards the streame of the
river brought downe continually such mudde and gravell,
that it ever increased the heape of corne more and more in
suche sorte, that the force of the water could no more remove
it from thence, but rather softly pressing and driving it
together, dyd firme and harden it, and made it growe so to
lande. Thus this heape rising still in greatnes and firmenes,
by reason that all that came downe the river stayed there, it
grewe in the ende, and by time to spread so farre, that at
this daye it is called the holy Ilande in Rome : in which are ^Fhereof the
many goodly temples of divers goddes, and sundry walkes holy Ilaud
about it, and they call it in Latine, Inter duos pontes : in Vf '"® "\^,
our tongue, ' betweene the two bridges.' Yet some Avrite, lieth betwene
that this thing fell not out at that time when the field of the both bridges.
Tarquines was consecrated unto Mars : but that it happened
afterwardes, when one of the Vestall Nunnes, called Tar-
quinia, gave a field of hers unto the people, which was hard
adjoyning unto Tarquines field. For which liberalitie and
bowntie of hers, they dyd graunte her in recompense many
priviledges, and dyd her great honour besides. As amongest
2K 257

PUBLICOLA

Tarquine
commeth with
a great power
of the Thus-
cans to wage
battel 1 with
theRomaines.
Arsia silva.

Aruns and
Brutus en-
countered,
and slue eche
other.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

others, it was ordeined, that her word and witnes should
stand good, and be allowed, in matters judiciall : which
priviledge, never woman besides her self dyd enjoy e. By
speciall grace of the people also, it was graunted her, that
she might marie if she thought it good : but yet she would
not accept the benefit of that offer. Thus you heare the
reporte how this thing happened. Tarquinius then being
past hope of ever entring into his Kingdome againe, went
yet unto the Thuscans for succour, which were very glad of
him : and so they leavied a great armie together, hoping to
have put him in his Kingdome againe. The Consuls also
hearing thereof, went out with their armie against him.
Both the armies presented them selves in battell raye, one
against another, in the holy places consecrated to the goddes:
wherof the one was called the wodde Arsia, and the other
the meadowe ^Esuvia. And as both armies beganne to geve
charge upon eche other, Aruns the eldest sonne of king
Tarquine, and the Consul Brutus encountered together, not
by chaunce, but sought for of set purpose to execute the
deadly fode and malice they dyd beare cache other. The
one, as against a tyrante and enemie of the libertie of his
countrie : the other, as against him that had bene chief
authour and worker of their exile and expulsion. So they
set spurres to their horses, so soone as they had spyed eche
other, with more fury then reason, and fought so desperately
together, that they both fell starke dead to the ground.
The first onset of the battell being so cruell, the end thereof
was no lesse bloudy : untill both the armies having receyved
and done like damage to eche other, were parted by a
marvelous great tempest that fell upon them. Nowe was
Valerius marvelously perplexed, for that he knewe not which
of them wanne the field that daye : seeing his souldiers as
sorowfull for the great losse of their men lying dead before
them, as they were glad of the slaughter and victorie of their
enemies. For, to viewe the multitude of the slaine bodies of
either side, the number was so equall in sight, that it was
very hard to judge, of which side fell out the greatest
slaughter : so that both the one and the other viewing by
the eye the remaine of their campe, were persuaded in their
258

■

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

opinion, that they had rather lost then wonne, conjecturing PUBLICOLA
a farre of the fall of their enemies. The night being come,
such things fell out, as maye be looked for after so terrible a
battell. For when both campes were all layed to rest, they
saye the wodde wherein they laye incamped, quaked and
trembled : and they heard a voyce saye, that onely one man
more was slaine on the Thuscans side, than on the Romaines The victory ol
parte. Out of doubt this was some voyce from heaven : for the Romaines
the Romaines thereupon gave a shrill showte, as those whose xhuscans
hartes receyved a newe quickening spirite or corage. The
Thuscans on the contrarie parte were so afFrayed, that the
most parte of them stole out of the campe, and scattered here
and there : and there remained behind about the number of
five thousand men, whom the Romaines tooke prisoners every
one, and had the spoile of their campe. The carkasses were
viewed afterwards, and they found that there were slaine in
that battell, eleven thousand and three hundred of the
Thuscans : and of the Romaines, so many saving one. This
battell was fought (as they saye) the last daye of Februarie,
and the Consul Valerius triumphed, being the first of the Valerius the
Consuls that ever entered into Rome triumphing: upon a ",*'^* Consul
charet drawen with foure horses, which sight the people +riumDhed
found honorable and goodly to beholde, and were not upon a
offended withall (as some seeme to reporte) nor yet dyd envy charret.
him for that he beganne it. For if it had bene so, that
custome had not bene followed with so good acceptation,
nor had continued so many yeres as it dyd afterwards. They
much commended also the honour he dyd to his fellowe
Consul Brutus, in setting out his funeralles and obsequies,
at the which he made a funerall oration in his praise. They The first be-
did so like and please the Romaines, that they have ever ginning of
since continued that custome at the buriall of any noble f^^'i^'"^^! o'"^-
man, or great personage, that he is openly praised at his the Romaines.
buriall, by the worthiest man that liveth among them.
They reporte this funerall oration is farre more auncient
then the first, that was made in Grece in the like case : onles
they will confirme that which the orator Anaximenes hath
written, that the manner of praising the dead at their
funeralls, was first of all instituted by Solon. But they dyd

^59

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

PUBLICOLA most envye Valerius, and beare him grudge, bicause Brutus

Anaximenes (whom the people did acknowledge for father of their

sayeth, Solon libertie) would never be alone in office, but had procured

was the first twise, that they should appoint Valerius fellowe Consul with

^ra^sef for*^*^ him. This man in contrariwise (sayed the people) taking

the dead. upon him alone the rule and soveraintie, sheweth plainely he

will not be Brutus successour in his Consulshippe, but Tar-

quinius self in the Kingdome. For to great purpose was it

to praise Brutus in wordes, and to followe Tarquinius in

deedes : having borne before him selfe only all the mases,

the axes and the roddes, when he cometh abroade out of his

owne house, which is farre greater, and more stately, then

the Kings palace which he him self overthrewe. And to

Valerius saye truely, Valerius dwelt in a house a litle to sumptuously

stately house built and seated, upon the hanging of the hill called mount

^uut°Velia Velia: and bicause it stoode highe, it overlooked all the

market place, so that any man might easely see from thence

what was done there. Furthermore, it was very ill to come

to it : but when he came out of his house, it was a marvelous

pompe and state to see him come downe from so highe a

place, and with a traine after him, that caried the majestic

Valerius a of a Kings courte. But herein Valerius left a noble example,

good example shewing howe much it importeth a noble man and magistrate,

trates^''' I'uling weighty causes, to have his eares open to heare, and

willingly to receyve free speache in steade of flatteries, and

playne trothe in place of lyes. For, being enformed by

some of his friends how the people misliked and complained

of it, he stoode not in his owne conceit, neither was angrie

with them : but forthwith set a worlde of workmen upon it,

earely in the morning before breake of daye, and com-

Valerius maunded them to plucke down his house, and to rase it to

overthrew his the ground. Insomuch as the next day following, when the

s te y ouse. j^omaines were gathered together in the market place, and

sawe this great sodaine mine, they much commended the

noble acte and minde of Valerius, in doing that he dyd : but

so were they angrie, and sorie both, to see so fayer and

stately a buylt house (which was an ornament to the cittie)

overthrowen upon a sodaine. Much like in comparison to a

man, whom through spite and en vie they had unjustly put

260

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

to death : and to see their chief magistrate also Hke a PUBLICOLA
straunger and a vacabonde, compelled to seeke his lodging
in another mans house. For his friends receyved him into
their houses, untill such time as the people had geven him a
place, where they dyd build him a newe house, farre more
orderly, and nothing so stately and curious as the first was,
and it was in the same place, where the temple called Vicus The temple
Publicus standeth at this daye. Now bi cause he would not called Vicus
only reforme his pei-sone, but the office of his Consulshippe, Publicus.
and also would frame him selfe to the good acceptation and
liking of the people : where before he seemed unto them to
be fearefull, he put awaye the carying of the axes from the
roddes, which the sergeants used to beare before the Consul.
Moreover when he came into the market place, where the
people were assembled, he caused the roddes to be borne
downewardes, as in token of reverence of the soveraine
majestie of the people : which all the magistrates observe
yet at this daye. Nowe in all this humble showe and lowli-
nes of his, he dyd not so much imbase his dignitie and
greatnes, which the common people thought him to have at
the first : as he dyd thereby cut of envie from him, winning
againe as much true authoritie, as in semblaunce he would
seeme to have lost. For this made the people willinger to
obey, and readier to submit them selves unto him : insomuch
as upon this occasion he was surnamed Publicola, as much to Why Valerius
saye, as the people pleaser. Which surname he kept ever was surnamed
after, and we from henceforth also writing the rest of his Publicola.
life, will use no other name : for he was contented to suffer
any man that would, to offer him selfe to aske the Consul-
shippe in Brutus place. But he yet not knowing what
kynde of man they would joyne fellowe Consul with him, and
fearing least through envie or ignoraunce, the party might
thwart his purpose and meaning : employed his sole power
and authoritie whilest he ruled alone, upon highe and noble
attempts. For first of all he supplied up the number of Publicolaes
Senatours that were greatly decayed, bicause king Tarquine actes and
had put some of them to death not long before, and other ^^^''^^•
also had bene lately slaine in the warres : in whose places he
had chosen newe Senatours, to the number of a hundred

'261

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

PUBLICOLA three score and foure. After that, he made newe decrees
and lawes, which greatly dyd advaunce the authoritie of the
people. The first lawe gave libertie to all ofFendours, con-
demned by judgement of the Consuls, to appeale unto the
people. The second, that no man upon payne of death
should take upon him the exercise of any office, unles he had
come unto it by the gifte of the people. The third was,
and all in favour of the poore, that the poore cittizens of
Rome should paye no more custome, nor any impost whatso-
ever. This made every man the more willing to geve him
selfe to some crafte or occupation, when he sawe his travaill
should not be taxed, nor taken from him. As for the law
that he made against those that disobeyed the Consuls, it
was founde to be so favorable to the communaltie, as they
thought it was rather made for the poore, than for the riche
and great men. For the ofFendours and breakers of that
lawe, were condemned to paye for a penaltie, the value of
five oxen, and two muttons. The price of a mutton was
then, tenne oboles, and of an oxe, a hundred oboles. For
in those dayes, the Romaines had no store of coined mony,
otherwise, they lacked no sheepe, nor other rother beasts.
Hereof it came, that to this daye they call their riches or
substaunce, Peculium, bicause Pecus signifieth sheepe and
muttons. And in the olde time the stampe upon their
money was an oxe, a mutton, or a hogge : and some of them
called their children Biibulci, which signifieth cowheards :
others Caprarii^ to saye goateheards : and others Porcii,
as you would saye, swineheardes. Nowe though in all his
other lawes, he was very favorable and temperate toward the
people: yet in that moderation, somtimes he dyd set gi-ievous
paynes and punishements. For he made it lawfull to kill
any man without any accusation, that dyd aspire to the
Kingdome, and he dyd set the murderer free of all punishe-
ment : so he brought forth manifest proofe, that the party
slaine, had practised to make him selfe King. As being-
impossible a man should pretend so great a matter, and no
man should finde it : and contrariwise being possible, albeit
he were spyed, that otherwise he might attempt it, by
making him selfe so strong, that he needed not passe for the
262

Whereof
Peculium
was called.

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

law. In this case he gave every man libcrtic by such actc PUBLICOLA
or raeanc, to prevent him if he could of discretion : who by
strength otherwise sought to aspire to reigne. They greatly
commended him also for the lawe that he made touching the
treasure. For being very necessarie that everie private
cittizen should according to his abilitie, be contributer to
the charges and maintenaunce of the warres : he him self
would neither take such collection into his charge, nor suffer
any man of his to medle with the same, nor yet that it
should be layed in any private mans house, but he dyd
ordeine that Saturnes temple should be the treasurie thereof.
This order they keepe to this present daye. Furthermore,
he graunted the people to chuse two young men Qucestores The first
of the same, as you would saye the treasurers, to take the Qutestores.
charge of this money : and the two first which were chosen,
were Publius Veturius, and Marcus Minutius, who gathered Publius
great summes of money together. For numbnng the people Veturius,
by the polle, there were found a hundred and thirtie ?^t^'^*'".-
thousand persones which had payed subsidie, not reckoning
in this accompt, orphanes, nor widowes, which were excepted
from all payments. After he had established all these things,
he caused Lucretius (the father of Lucretia) to be chosen Lucretius
fellowe Consul with him, unto whom, for that he was his and Publicola
auncient, he gave the upper hande, and commaunded they Consuls,
should carie before him the roddes, which were the signes of
the chief magistrate : and ever since they have geven this
honour unto age. But Lucretius dying not long after his
election, they chose againe in his place Marcus Horatius, Publicola and
who held out the Consulshippe with Publicola the rest of Marcus Hora-
the yere. Nowe about that time king Tarquine remained in *^"^ Consuls,
the countrie of Thuscane, where he prepared a seconde armie
against the Romaines, and there fell out a marvelous straunge
thing thereupon. For when he raigned king of Rome, he
had almost made an ende of the building of the temple of
lupiter Capitolin, and was determined (whether by any oracle
receyved, or upon any fantasy it is not knowen) to set up a
coche of earth baked by a potter, in the highest place of the
temple, and he put it out to be done by certaine Thuscan
workemen of the cittie of Veies : but whilest they were in

263

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

PUBLICOLA hand with the worcke, he was driven out of his Realme.
When the worckemen had formed this coche, and that they
had put it into the foumes to bake it, it fell out contrarie
to the nature of the earth, and the common order of their
worcke put into the foumes. For the earth dyd not shut
and close together in the fire, nor dryed up all the moisture
thereof: but rather to the contrarie it dyd swell to such a
bignes, and grewe so harde and strong withall, that they
were driven to breake up the head and walles of the foumes
to get it out. The soothesayers dyd expounde this, that it
was a celestiall token from above, and promised great pro-
speritie and increase of power unto those, that should enjoye
this coche. Whereupon the Veians resolved not to deliver it
unto the Romaines that demaunded it, but aunswered that
it dyd belong unto king Tarquine, and not unto those that
had banished him. Not many dayes after, there was a
solemne feast of games for running of horses in the cittie of
Veies, where they dyd also many other notable actes, worthy
sight according to their custome. But after the game was
played, he that had wonne the bell, being cro%\-ned in token
of victorie as they dyd use at that time, brought his coche
and horses fayer and softely out of the showe place : and
sodainely the horse being aft'rayed upon no present cause or
occasion seene, whether it was by chaunce, or by some secret
working from above, ranne as they had bene mad with their
coche to the cittie of Rome. The coche driver dyd what he
could possible at the first to staye them, by holding in the
raynes, by clapping them on the backs, and speaking gently
to them : but in the ende, perceyving he could doe no good,
and that they would have their swynge, he gave place to
their furie, and they never linne ronning, till they brought
him neere to the Capitoll, where they overthrewe him and
his coche, not farre from the gate called at this present,
Ratumena. The Veians woundering much at this matter,
and being affrayed withall : were contented the workmen
should deliver their coche made of earth unto the Romaines.
Now concerning lupiter Capitolins temple, king Tarquine
the first (which was the sonne of Demaratus) vowed in the
waiTes that he made against the Sabynes, that he would
264

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

buyld it. And Tcarquine the prowde, being the sonne of PUBLICOLA
him that made this vowe dyd buyld it : howbeit he dyd not
consecrate it, bicause he was driven out of his Kingdome
before he had finished it. When this temple was built and
throughly finished, and set forth with all his ornaments :
Publicola was marvelously desirous to have the honour of the
dedication thereof. But the noble men and Senatours envy-
ing his glorie, being very angrie that he could not content
him selfe with all those honours that he had receyved in
peace, for the good lawes he had made, and in warres for
the victories he had obteined and well deserved, but further
that he would seeke the honour of this dedication, which
nothing dyd pertaine unto him : they then dyd egge Hora-
tius, and persuaded him to make sute for the same. Occasion
fell out at that time, that Publicola must have the leading
of the Romaines armie into the field : in the meane time,
while Publicola was absent, it was procured that the people
gave their voyces to Horatius, to consecrate the temple,
knowing they could not so well have brought it to passe he
being present. Other saye, the Consuls drewe lotts betweene
them, and that it lighted upon Publicola to leade the armie
against his will, and upon Horatius to consecrate this temple,
which maye be conjectured by the thing that fortuned in the
dedication thereof. For all the people being assembled
together in the Capitoll with great silence, on the fiftenth
daye of the moneth of September, which is about the newe
moone of the moneth which the Grecians call Metagitnion :
Horatius having done all the ceremonies needefull in suche a
case, and holding then the doores of the temple, as the use
was even to utter the solemne wordes of dedication : Marcus
V'alerius, the brother of Publicola, having stoode a long time
there at the temple doore, to take an oportunitie to speake,
beganne to say alowde in this wise : My lorde Consul, your
sonne is dead of a sicknes in the campe. This made all the
assembly sorie to heare it, but it nothing amased Horatius,
who spake only this muche : Cast his bodie then where you
will for me, the thought is taken. So he continued on to
ende his consecration. This was but a devise and nothing
true, of Marcus Valerius, only to make Horatius leave of his
2L 265

PUBLICOLA

How oft
lupiter Capi-
tolins temple
•was burnt and
built againe.

How much
was spent in
building the
Capitoll.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

consecration. Horatius in this shewed him selfe a marvelous
resolute man, were it that he streight founde his devise, or
that he beleeved it to be true : for the sodainenes of the
matter nothing altered him. The very like matter fell out in
consecrating of the second temple. For this first which
Tarquine had built and Horatius consecrated, was consumed
by fyer in the civill warres : and the second was built up
againe by Sylla, who made no dedication of it. For Catulus
set up the superscription of the dedication, bicause Sylla
dyed before he could dedicate it. The second temple was
burnt againe not long after the troubles and tumultes
which were at Rome, under Vitellius the Emperour. The
third in like manner was reedified and built againe by
Vespasian, from the ground to the toppe. But this good
happe he had above other : to see his worke perfited
and finished before his death, and not overthrowen as it
was immediately after his death. Wherein he dyd farre
passe the happines of Sylla, who dyed before he could
dedicate that he had built : and thother deceased before
he sawe his worcke overthrowen. For all the Capitoll
was burnt to the ground incontinently after his death.
It is reported the only foundations of the first temple,
cost Tarquinius fortie thousand Pondos of silver. And
to gyld only the temple which we see nowe in our
time, they saye all the goodes and substaunce that the
richest cittizen of Rome then had, will come nothing
neere unto it : for it cost above twelve thousand talents.
The pillers of this temple are cut out of a quarrie of
marbell, called pentlike marbell, and they were squared
parpine, as thicke as long: these I sawe at Athens. But
afterwardes they were cut againe, and polished in Rome,
by which doing they got not so much grace, as they lost
proportion : for they were made to slender, and left naked
of their first beawtie. Nowe he that would wounder at the
stately buylding of the Capitoll, if he came afterwardes unto
the palace Domitian, and dyd but see some galerie, porche,
hall, or hotte house, or his concubines chambers : he would
saye (in my opinion) as the poet Epicharmus sayed of a
prodigall man :
266

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

It is a fault, and folly both in thee PUBLICOLA.

to lashe out giftes, and prodigall rewardes :
For fonde delights, without all rule that be,

regarding not what happens afterwardes.

So might they justly saye of Domitian. Thou art not
liberall, nor devoute unto the goddes : but it is a vice thou
hast to love to buyld, and desirest (as they saye of olde Domitians
Midas) that all about thee were turned to gold, and precious ^^^ building
stones. And thus much for this matter, Tarquine after ^"^'"'•
that great foughten battell wherein he lost his sonne (that
was slaine by Brutus in fighting together hande to hande)
went to the cittie of Clusium, unto king Claras Porsena :
the mightiest prince that raigned at that time in all Italic,
and was both noble and a curteous prince. Porsena pro-
mised him ayde : and first of all he sent to Rome to summone
the cittizens to receive their King againe. But the Romaines
refusing the summones, he sent forthwith an Heraulde to Porsena
proclaime open warres against them, and to tell them where, proclaimeth
and when he would meete them : and then marched thither- ^^'''*®^ ^^*"
wardes immediatly with a great armie. Publicola nowe
being absent, was chosen Consul the second time, and Titus Publicola and
Lucretius with him. When he was returned home againe Titus Lucre-
to Rome, bicause he would exceede king Porsena in greatnes ^^^^ Consuls.
of minde, he beganne to buyld a cittie called Siglivria, even
when the King with all his armie was not farre from Rome :
and having walled it about to his marvelous charge, he sent
thither seven hundred cittizens to dwell there, to shewe that
he made litle accompt of this warre. Howbeit Porsena at
his coming dyd geve suche a lustie assault to the mount
laniculum, that they drave out the souldiers which kept
the same : who flying towards Rome, were pursued so harde
with the enemies, that with them they had entered the
towne, had not Publicola made a saly out to resist them.
Who beganne a hotte skirmishe harde by the river of Tyber,
and there sought to have stayed the enemies to follow any
further : which being the greater number, dyd overlaye the
Romaines, and dyd hurte Publicola very sore in this skirmishe,
so as he was caried away into the cittie in his souldiers armes.
And even so was the other Consul Lucretius hurte in like

267

PUBLICOLA case
they

Horatius
Codes why
so called.

Good service
rewarded.

Publicola
Consul.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

: which so discoraged and frayed the Romaines, that
all tooke them to their legges, and fled towards the
cittie. The enemies pursued them at their heeles as farre
as the wodden bridge : so that the cittie was in marvelous
hazarde of taking upon the sodaine. But Horatius Codes,
and Herminius, and Lucretius, two other of the chiefest
noble young men of the cittie, stood with them to the
defence of the bridge, and made head against the enemie.
This Horatius was surnamed Codes (as much to saye, as one
eye) bicause he had lost one of them in the warres. Howbeit
other writers saye, it was bicause of his flat nose which was
so soncke into his head, that they sawe nothing to parte his
eyes, but that the eye browes dyd meete together : by reason
whereof the people thinking to surname him Cyclops, by
corruption of the tongue they called him (as they saye)
Codes. But howsoever it was, this Horatius Codes had the
courage to shew his face against the enemie, and to kepe
the bridge, untill such time as they had cut and broken it
up behind him. When he saw they had done that, armed
as he was, and hurte in the hippe with a Dike of the Thuscans,
he leaped into the river of Tyber, and saved him selfe by
swimming unto the other side. Publicola woundring at this
manly acte of his, persuaded tlie Romaines straight, every
one according to his abilitie, to give him so much as he
spent in a daye : and afterwards also he caused the common
treasury to geve him as much lande as he could compasse
about with his plowe in a daye. Furthermore he made his
image of brasse to be set up in the temple of Vulcane, com-
forting by this honour his wounded hippe, whereof he was
lame ever after. Nowe whilest king Porsena was hottely
bent, very straightly to besiege Rome, there beganne a
famine among the Romaines : and to encrease the daunger,
there came a newe armie out of Thuscane, which overrane,
burnt, and made waste, all the territorie of Rome. Where-
upon Publicola being chosen Consul, then the third time,
thought he should neede to doe no more to resist Porsena
bravely, but to be quiet only, and to looke well to the safe
keeping of the cittie. Howbeit spying his oportunity, he
secretly stole out of Rome with a power, and did set upon
268

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

the Thuscans that destroyed the countrie about : and over- PUBLICOLA
threw and slue of them, five thousand men. As for the
historie of Mutius, many doe diversely reporte it : but I will The noble
write it in such sorte, as I thincke shall best agree with the acte of Mutius
trothe. This Mutius was a worthie man in all respects, but ^^^^ ^'
specially for the warres. He devising howe he might come
to kill king Porsena, disguised him selfe in Thuscans apparell,
and speaking Thuscan very perfectly, went into his campe,
and came to the Kings chayer, in the which he gave audi-
ence: and not knowing him perfectly, he durst not aske
which was he, least he should be discovered, but drue his
sworde at adventure, and slewe him whom he tooke to be
King. Upon that they layed holde on him, and examined
him. And a panne full of fire being brought for the King-
that entended to doe sacrifice unto the goddes, Mutius held
out his right hand over the fire, and boldly looking the
King full in his face, whilest the flesh of his hand dyd frye
of, he never chaunged hewe nor contenaunce : the King
woundering to see so straunge a sight, called to them to
withdraw the fire, and he him selfe dyd deliver him his
sworde againe. Mutius tooke it of him with his left hand,
whereupon they saye afterwardes, he had geven him the
surname of Scaevola, as much to saye, as left handed, and How Mutius
told him in taking of it : Thou couldest not Porsena for ^^"^^ ^^ ^^^
feare have overcomed me, but nowe through curtesy thou Scevola
hast wonne me. Therefore for goodwill I will reveale that
unto thee, which no force, nor extremitie could have made
me utter. There are three hundred Romaines dispersed
through thy campe, all which are prepared with like mindes
to followe that I have begonne, only gaping for oportunitie
to put it in practise. The lot fell on me to be the first to
breake the Ise of this enterprise : and yet I am not sorie my
hande fayled, to kill so worthie a man, that deserveth rather
to be a friend, then an enemie unto the Romaines. Porsena
hearing this, did beleeve it, and ever after he gave the more
\v'illing eare to those that treated with hmi of peace : not so
much (in my opinion) for that he feared the three hundred
lying in waite to kill him, as for the admiration of the
Romaines noble minde and great corage. All other writers

269

PUBLICOLA

Publicola
maketh Por-
sena judge,
betwext them
and the
Tarquines.

Peace

graunted the
Romaines by
Porsena.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

call this man, Mutius Scaevola : howbeit Athenodorus, sur-
named Sandon, in a booke he wrote unto Octavia, Augustus
sister, sayeth that he was also called Opsigonus. But
Publicola taking king Porsena not to be so daungerous an
enemie to Rome, as he should be a profitable friend and
allie to the same : let him understand, that he was contented
to make him judge of the controversie betweene them and
Tarquine. \Vhom he dyd many times provoke to come and
have his cause heard before king Porsena, where he would
justifie to his face, that he was the naughtiest and most
wicked man of the world, and that he was justly driven out
of his countrie. Tarquine sharpely aunswered, that he
would make no man his judge, and Porsena least of all
other, for that havmg promised him to put him againe in
his Kingdom, he was nowe gone from his worde, and had
chaunged his minde. Porsena was very angrie with this
aunswer, judging this a manifest token that his cause was
ill. Wherefore Porsena being solicited againe by his owne
Sonne Aruns, who loved the Romaines, dyd easily graunte
them peace upon condition : that they should redeliver
backe againe to him the lands they had gotten before
within the countrie of Thuscan, with the prisoners also
which they had taken in this warre, and in liew thereof he
offered to deliver to them againe the Romaines, that had
fled from them unto him. To confirme this peace, the
Romaines delivered him ostages, tenne of the noblest mens
sonnes of the cittie, and so many of their daughters : emong
which, was Valeria, Publicolaes owne daughter. Peace being
thus concluded, Porsena brake his armie, and withdrewe his
strength, trusting to the peace concluded. The Romaines
daughters delivered for ostages, came downe to the rivers
side to washe them, in a quiet place where the streame ranne
but gently, without any force or swiftnes at all. When they
were there, and saw they had no garde about them, nor any
came that waye, nor yet any botes going up nor down the
streame : they had a desire to swime over the river, which
ranne with a swift streame, and was marvelous deepe. Some
saye, that one Claslia swamme the river upon her horse backe,
and that she did imbolden and incorage the other to swimme
270

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

harde by her horse side : and recovering the other bancke, PUBLICOLA

and being past all daunger, they went and presented them Theboklenes

selves before Publicola the Consul. Who neither commended of Clselia

them, nor liked the parte they had played, but was mar- and other

velous sorie, fearing least men would iudge him lesse carefull ^o")^"^^

to keepe his faith, then was king Porsena: and that he *

might suspect the boldnes of these maidens, was but a crafty

slight devised of the Romaines. Therefore he tooke them

all againe, and sent them immediatly unto king Porsena.

Whereof Tarquine having intelligence, he layed an ambushe

for them, that had the conduction of them. Who so soone

as they were paste the river, did shew them selves, and brake

upon the Romaines : they being farre fewer in number than

the other, did yet very stowtely defend them selves. Now

whilest they were in earnest fight together, Valeria Publi-

colaes daughter, and three of her fathers servants, escaped

through the middest of them, and saved them selves. The

residue of the virgines remained in the middest among their

swordes, in great daunger of their lives. Aruns king Porsenas

Sonne advertised hereof, ranne thither incontinently to the

rescue : but when he came, the enemies fled, and the Romaines

held on their jorney to redeliver their ostages. Porsena

seeing them againe, asked which of them it was that beganne

first to passe the river, and had encouraged the other to

followe her. One pointed him unto her, and told him her

name was Claelia. He looked upon her very earnestly, and

wdth a pleasaunt countenaunce, and commaunded they should

bring him one of his best horse in the stable, and the richest

furniture he had for the same, and so he gave it unto her.

Those which holde opinion that none but Claelia passed the

river a horse backe, doe alledge this to prove their opinion

true. Other doe denie it, saying that this Thuscan king,

did onely honour her noble courage. Howsoever it was,

they see her image a horse backe in the holy streete, as they

goe to the palace: and some saye it is the statue of Valeria,

other of Claelia. After Porsena had made peace with the The liberalitle

Romaines, in breaking up his campe, he shewed his noble of king Por-

minde unto them in many other things, and specially in that ^ "* ^? *^®

he commaunded his souldiers they should carie nothing but ""^^^"^^*

an

PUBLICOLA

Marcus

Valerius,

Posthumius

Tubertus

Consuls.

Marcus
Valerius, the
brother of
Publicola,
triumpheth
of the
Sabynes.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

their armour and weapon only, leaving his campe full of
corne, vittells, and other kynde of goodes. From whence
this custome came, that at this daye when they make open
sale of any thing belonging to the common weale, the ser-
geant or common crier crieth, that they are king Porsenas
goodes, and taken of thankefuUnes and perpetuall memorie
of his bowntie and liberalitie towards them. Further,
Porsenas image standeth adjoyning to the palace where the
Senate is used to be kept, which is made of great antike
worke. Afterwardes the Sabynes invading the Romaines
territorie with a great force, Marcus Valerius Publicolaes
brother, was then chosen Consul, with one Posthumius
Tubertus. Howbeit all matters of weight and importaunce
passed by Publicolaes counsell and authoritie, who was
present at any thing that was done : and by whose meanes
Marcus his brother, wanne two great battells, in the last
whereof he slewe thirteene thousand of his enemies, not
losing one of his owne men. For which his victories, besides
the honour of triumphe he had, the people also at their
owne charges, built him a house, in the streete of mounte
Palatine, and graunted him moreover that his doore should
open outwards into the streete, where all others mens doores
dyd open inwards into their house : signifying by graunte of
this honour and priviledge, that he should allwayes have
benefit by the common weale. It is reported that the
Grecians doores of their houses in olde time, dyd all open
outwards after that facion, and they doe conjecture it by
the comedies that are played. Where those that would goe
out of their houses, dyd first knocke at their doores, and
make a noyse within the house, least in opening their doore
upon a sodaine, they might overthrowe or hurte him that
taried at the streete doore, or passed by the waye : who
hearing the noyse, had warning straight to avoyde the
daunger. The next yere after that, Publicola was chosen
Consul the fourth time, bicause they stoode in great doubt
that the Sabynes and Latines would joyne together to make
warres upon them : besides all this, there was a certaine
superstitious feare ranne through the cittie, of some ill
happe toward it, bicause most parte of the women with
272

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

childe were delivered of unperfect children, lacking some PUBLICOLA
one limme or other, and all of them came before their time.
Wherfore Publicola looking in some of Sybillaes books,
made private sacrifice unto Pluto, and did set up againe
some feastes and solemne games that were left of, and had
bene commaunded before time to be kept by the oracle of
Apollo, These meanes having a litle rejoyced the cittie
with good hope, bicause they thought that the anger of
the goddes had bene appeased : Publicola then beganne to
provide for the daungers that they were threatned with-
all by men, for that newes was brought him that their
enemies were up in all places, and made great preparation
to invade them. Nowe there was at that time amongest
the Sabynes, a great riche man called Appius Clausus, very
strong and active of bodie, and otherwise a man of great
reputation and eloquence, above all the rest of his countrie
men : but notwithstanding, he was much envied, and could
not avoyde it, being a thing common to great men. He
went about to staye those intended waiTes against the
Romaines. Whereupon, many which before tooke occasion
to murmure against him, dyd nowe much more increase the
same : with saying he sought to mainteine the power of the
Romaines, that afterwards by their ayde he might make him
selfe tyranne and King of the countrie. The common people
gave easy eare unto such speaches, and Appius perceyving
well enough how the souldiers hated him deadly, he feared
they would complaine, and accuse him. Wherefore being
well backed and stoode to by his kynsemen, friends, and
followers, he practised to make a sturre among the Sabynes,
which was the cause of staying the warres against the
Romaines. Publicola, also for his parte was very diligent,
not only to understand the originall cause of his sedition,
but to feede on further and increase the same, having gotten
men meete for the purpose, which caried Appius such a
message from him. That Publicola knewe very well he was
a just man, and one that would not be revenged of his
cittizens, to the generall hurte of his countrie, although the
injuries he receyved at their hands, delivered him just occa-
sion to doe it : nevertheles if he had any desire to provide
2 M 273

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

PUBLICOLA for his safety and to repaire to Rome, leaving them which
causeles wished him so muche evill, they would both openly
and privately receyve him with that due honour which his
vertue deserved and the worthines of the Romaine people
required. Clausus having long and many times considered
this matter with him selfe, resolved that it was the best waye
he could take, making vertue of necessitie : and therefore
being determined to doe it, he dyd procure his friends to
doe as he dyd, and they got other also unto them, so that
Appius he brought awaye with him out of the countrie of the

Clausus goeth Sabynes, five thousand families with their wives and children
to dwel at ^Qf \\^q quietest and most peacible people among the Sabynes)
^'"^" to dwel at Rome. Publicola being advertised thereof before

they came, dyd receyve them at their comming to Rome with
great joye, and all manner of good curteous enterteinment.
For at their first coming, he made them all and their families
free cittizens, and assigned unto every persone of them two
jugera of lande, (which conteined one acre, one roode, eleven
pole, and 69 partes of a pole) by the river of Tyber : and
unto Appius self he gave 25 jugera (to wit, 16 acres and a
halfe, 4 pole and 76 partes of a pole) and received him into
the number of the Senatours. And thus came he first unto
the government of the common weale in Rome, where he did
so wisely behave him self, that in the end he came to be the
chiefest man of dignitie and authoritie in Rome, so long as
The familie of he lived. After his death, he left behind him the familie of
theClaudiaus. ^j^g Claudians, descending from him : which for honour, and
worthines, gave no place to the noblest familie in Rome.
But no we the sedition amongest the Sabynes being pacified,
by the departure of those that were gone to Rome : the
seditious governours would not suffer those that remained
to live in peace, but still cried out, it were to much shame
for them, that Clausus being a fugitive, and become an
enemie, should honour their enemies abroade, that being
present durst not shewe so much at home, and that the
Romaines should scape unrevenged, who had done them
such apparant wronges. So they raised great force and
power, and went and encamped with their armie neere the
cittie of Fidenes, and layed an ambushe harde by Rome, in
274

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

certen hidden and hollowe places, where they put a two PUBLICOLA
thousand choyce footemen, very well armed, and dyd
appoint the next morning to send certaine light horse men
to runne and praye to Rome gates : commaunding them,
that when the Romaines came out of the cittie to charge
them, they should seeme leysurely to retire, untill they had
drawen them within daunger of their ambush. Publicola
receyving full intelligence of all their intention, by a traytour
that fled from them unto him, made due preparation to en-
counter with their privie ambushe, and so devided his armie
in two partes : for he gave his sonne in lawe Posthumius
Balbus, three thousand footemen, whom he sent awaye by
night, commaunding them the same night to take the hilles,
in the bottome whereof the Sabynes were layed in ambushe,
Lucretius, fellowe Consull with Publicola, having the lightest
and lustiest men of the cittie, was appointed to make head
against the vauntcurriers of the Sabynes, that minded to ap-
proche the gates. And Publicola with the rest of the armie,
marched a great compasse about to inclose his enemies behinde.
The next morning betimes, by chaunce it was a thick miste,
and at that present time Posthumius coming down from the
hilles, with great showtes, charged them that laye in ambush.
Lucretius on the other side, set upon the light horsemen of the
Sabynes : and Publicola fell upon their campe. So that of all
sides the Sabynes enterprise had very ill successe, for they had
the worst in every place, and the Romaines killed them flying,
without any turning againe to make resistance. Thus the
place which gave them hope of best safety, turned most to
their deadly overthrowe. For every one of their companies
supposing the other had bene whole and unbroken, when a
charge was geven upon them, dyd straight breake, and never a
company of them turned head toward their enemie. For they
that were in the campe, ranne toward them which laye in
ambushe : and those which were in ambushe on the contrarie
side, ranne towards them that were in campe. So that in
flying, the one met with the other, and founde those, towards
whom they were flying to have bene safe, to stand in as much
neede of helpe as them selves. That which saved some
that were not slaine, was the cittie of Fidenes, which was

275

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

The Sabynes
slaine.

The death of
Publicola.

PUBLICOLA neere the campe, and specially saved those which fled thither.
But such as came shorte of the cittie, and could not in time
recover it, were all slaine in the fielde, or taken prisoners.
As for the glorie of this honorable victorie, albeit the
Romaines were wonte to ascribe all suche great notable
matters to the speciall providence and grace of the goddes,
yet at that time notwithstanding they dyd judge, that this
happy successe fell out by the wise foresight and valliantnes of
the captaine. For every man that had served in this jorney,
had no other talke in his mouth, but that Publicola had
delivered their enemies into their handes, lame, and blinde,
and as a man might saye, bounde hande and feete to kill
them at their pleasure. The people were marvelously en-
riched by this victorie, aswell for the spoile, as for the
ransome of the prisoners that they had gotten. Nowe
Publicola after he had triumphed, and left the government
of the cittie to those, which were chosen Consuls for the
yere following : dyed incontinently, having lived as honor-
ably and vertuously all the dayes of his life, as any man
living might doe. The people then tooke order for his
funeralles, that the charges thereof should be defrayed by
the cittie, as if they had never done him any honour in his
life, and that they had bene still debters unto him for the
noble service he had done unto the state and common weale
whilest he lived. Therefore towardes his funeralle charges,
every cittizen gave a pece of money called a Quatrine. The
women also for their parte, to honour his'funeralles, agreed
among them selves to mourne a whole yere in blackes for him,
which was a great and honorable memoriall. He was buried
also by expresse order of the people, within the cittie, in
the streate called Velia : and they graunted priviledge also
unto all his posteritie, to be buried in the selfe same place.
Howbeit they doe no more burie any of his there. But
when any dye, they bring the corse unto this place, and one
holding a torche burning in his hande, doth put it under the
place, and take it straight awaye againe, to shewe that they
have libertie to burie him there, but that they willingly
refuse this honour: and this done, they carie
the corse awaye againe.

His fuue-
ralles.

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

THE COMPARISON OF
SOLON WITH PUBLICOLA

OWE presently to compare these two per-
sonages together, it seemeth they both
had one vertue in them : which is not
fomide in any other of their lives which
we have written of before. And the
same is, that the one hath bene a witnes,
and the other a follower of him, to whom
he was like. So as the sentence that Solon

spake to king Croesus, touching Tellus felicitie and happines,
might have better bene applied unto Publicola, than to Publicola
Tellus : whom he judged to be very happy, bicause he dyed happie.
honorably, he had lived vertuously, and had left behinde him
goodly children. And yet Solon speaketh nothing of his
excellencie, or vertue, in any of his poemes : neither dyd he
ever beare any honorable office in all his time, nor yet left
any children that caried any great fame or renowme after
his death. Whereas Publicola so long as he lived, was
allwayes the chiefe man amongest the Romaines, of credit
and authoritie : and afterwards since his death, certaine of
the noblest families, and most auncient houses of Rome,
in these our dayes, as the Publicoles, the Messales, and the
Valerians, for six hundred yeres continuance, doe referre the
glorie of the nobilitie and auncientie of their house unto
him. Furthermore, Tellus was slaine by his enemies, fight-
ing valliantly like a worthy honest man. But Publicola
died after he had slaine his enemies : which is faiTe more
great good happe, then to be slaine. For after he as
generall had honorably served his country in the warres,
and had left them conquerers, having in his life time re-
ceyved all honours and triumphes due unto his service : he
attained to that happy end of life, which Solon accompted
and esteemed, most happy and blessed. Also in wishing
manner, he would his end should be lamented to his prayse,

277

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

SOLON in a place where he confuteth Mimnermus, about the con-
■*ND tinuaunce of mans life, by savina; :

PUBLICOLA ^ J J s

Let not my death without lamenting passe,

but rather let my friendes bewayle the same :
Whose grievous teares, and cries of out alas, .

maye ofte resound the Eccho of my name.

If that be good happe, then most happy maketh he
Publicola : for at his death, not only his friends and kinse-
folkes, but the whole cittie also, and many a thousand
persone besides, dyd bitterly bewayle the losse of him. For
all the women of Rome dyd mourne for him in blacks, and
dyd most pittiefully lament his death, as every one of them
had lost either father, brother, or husband.

True it is, that I covet goodes to have :
but yet so got, as maye me not deprave.

Solon sayeth this, bicause vengeance followed ill gotten
good. And Publicola tooke great heede, not only to get his
goodes most justly, but had regarde that those which he had,
he spent most honestly in helping the needie. So that if
Solon was justly reputed the wisest man, we must needes
confesse also that Publicola was the happiest. For what the
one desired for the greatest and most perfect good, a man
can have in this worlde : the other hath wonne it, kept it, and
used it all his life time, untill the hower of his death. And
thus hath Solon honoured Publicola, and Publicola hath
done like unto Solon, shewing him self a perfect example and
looking glasse, where men maye see howe to goveme a
popular state : when he made his Consulshippe voyde of
all pride and stately shewe, and became him self affable,
curteous, and beloved of everie bodie. So tooke he profit by
many of his lawes. As when he ordeined, that the people
only should have authoritie to choose and create, all
common officers and magistrates, and that they might ap-
peale from any judge to the people : as Solon when he
suffered them to appeale unto the judges of the people.
In deede Publicola dyd not create any newe Senate, as
Solon dyd : but he dyd augment the first number, with as
many persones almost as there were before. He dyd also

278

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

first erect the office of Quccstores^ for keeping of all fines, SOLON
taxes, and other collections of money. Bicause the chiefest ^^^

magistrate, if he were an honest man, should not for so light PUBLICOLA
an occasion be taken, from the care of better and more Publicola
weightie affayers : and if he were wickedly geven and ill dis- elected the
posed, that he should have no such meane or occasion to Qucestores
worke his mcked will, by having the treasure of the cittie in
his handes, and to commaund what he lyst. Moreover in
hating the tyramies, Publicola therein was farre more shai-pe
and terrible. For Solon in his lawes punished him that
went about to make him selfe tyranne, yet after he was con-
victed thereof by lawe : but Publicola ordeined that they
should kill him, before the lawe dyd passe on him, that
sought to be King. And where Solon justly, and truely
vaunteth him self, that being offered to be King and Lord
of Athens, and that with the whole consent of the cittizens :
yet he dyd notwithstanding refuse it. This vaunte and
glorie is as due unto Publicola : who finding the dignitie of
a Consul tyrannicall, he brought it to be more lowly and
favorable for the people, not taking upon him all the
authoritie he might lawfully have done. And it seemeth
that Solon knewe before him, what was the true and direct
waye to goveme a common weale uprightly. For he sayeth
in one place :

Both great and small of power, the better will obaye :
if we to litle or to much, upon them doe not laye.

The discharging of dettes was proper to Solon, which was
a full confirmation of libertie. For litle prevayleth lawe to
make equalitie among cittizens, when dettes doe hinder the
poore people to enjoy e the benefit thereof. And Avhere it
seemeth that they have most libertie, as in that they maye be
chosen judges and officers to speake their opinion in the
counsell, and geve their voyces also : there in deede are they
most bounde and subject, bicause they doe but obaye the
rich, in all they doe commaund. But yet in this acte there
is a thinge more wonderfull, and worthie to be noted. That
commonly discharging of dettes, was wont to breede great
tumultes, and seditions in common weales. And Solon

279

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

SOLON having used it in a very good time (as the phisitian ventring
ANn a daungerous medecine) dyd appease the sedition already

PUBLICOLA begonne, and did utterly quenche through his glorie, and the
common opinion they had of his wisdome and vertue, all the
infamie and accusation that might have growen of that acte.
As for their first entrie into the government, Solons begin-
ning was farre more noble. For he went before, and followed
not another : and him selfe alone without any others helpe,
dyd put in execution the best, and more parte of all his
notable and goodly lawes. Yet was Publicolaes ende and
death much more glorious and happie. For Solon before
he dyed, sawe all his comon wealthe overthrowen : but
Publicolaes common weale continued whole as he left it,
untill the broyle of civill warres beganne againe among
them. Solon, after he had made his lawes, and written
them in wodden tables, leaving them without defence of any
man, went his waye imraediatly out of the cittie of Athens.
Publicola abiding continually in Rome governing the state,
dyd throughly stablishe and confirme the lawes he made.
Furthermore Solon having wisely forseene Pisistratus prac-
tises, aspiring to make him selfe King : he could never let
him for all that, but was him selfe overcome and oppressed
with the tyrannic he sawe stablished in his owne sight, and in
dispight of him. Where Publicola overthrewe and dyd put
downe a mightie Kingdome, that had continued of long
time, and was throughly stablished : his vertue and desire
being equall with Solons, and having had besides fortune
favorable, and sufficient power to execute, his vertuous and
well disposed minde. But as for warres and marshall deedes,
there is no comparison to be made betweene them. For
Daimachus Plataeian, doth not attribute the warres of the
Megarians unto Solon, as we have written it : where Publi-
cola being generall of an armie, and fighting him selfe in
persone, hath wonne many great battells. And as for
matters of peace and civill government, Solon never durst
present him self openly to persuade the enterprise of Sala-
mina, but under a counterfeat madnes, and as a foole to
make sporte. Where Publicola taking his adventure from
the beginning, shewed him selfe without dissimulation, an
280

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

open enemie to Tarquine, and afterwardes he revealed the SOLON
whole conspiracie. And when he had bene the only cause and

and autor of punishing the traitours, he dyd not only drive PUBLICOLA
out of Rome the tyrannes selves in persone, but tooke from
them also all hope of returne againe. Who having allwayes
thus nobly and valliantly behaved him self, without shrinking
backe, or flying from ought that required force, a manly
corage, or open resistaunce : dyd yet shewe him selfe dis-
creete, where wisedome was requisite, or reason and persuasion
needefull. As when he conningly wanne king Porsena, who
was a dredfuU enemie unto him, and invincible by force:
whom he handled in such good sorte, that he made him his
friend. Peradventure some might stand in this and saye :
that Solon recovered the He of Salamina unto the Athe-
nians, which they would have lost. Publicola to the con-
trarie, restored the lands unto Porsena againe, which the
Romaines had conquered before, within the countrie of
Thuscan. But the times in which these things were done,
are allwayes to be considered of. For a wise govemour of a A politicke
Realme, and politicke man, doth governe diversely according precept,
to the occasions ofFred, taking every thing in his time
wherein he will deale. And many times, in letting goe one
thing, he saveth the whole : and in losing a litle, he gayneth
much. As Publicola dyd : who losing a litle pece of another
mans countrie which they had usui-ped, saved by that meanes
all that was assuredly his owne. And whereas the Romaines
thought he should doe very much for them, to save their
cittie only : he got them moreover, all the goodes that were in
their enemies campe, which dyd besiege them. And in making
his enemie judge of his quarrell, he wanne the victorie :
winning that moreover, which he would gladly have geven to
have overcome, and have sentence passe of his side. For the
King their enemie dyd not only make peace with them, but
dyd also leave them all his furniture, provision, and munition
for the warres: even for the vertue, manhood, and justice,
which the great wisedome of this Consul persuaded Porsena
to beleeve to be, in all the other Romaines.

THE ENDE OF PUBLICOLAES LIFE

2N 981

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

THE LIFE OF THEMISTOCLES

Cynosargos,
a place of
exercise de-
dicated to
Hercules,

Themistocles
towardnes.

HEMISTOCLES parentage dyd litle ad-
vaunce his glorie : for his father Neocles
was of small reputation in Athens,
being of the hundred of Phrear, and
tribe of Leontis : of his mother an
allien or straunger : as these verses doe
witnesse,

Abrotonon I am, yborne in Thracia,

and yet this highe good happe I have, that into Grecia
I have brought forth a sonne, Themistocles by name,

the glorie of the Greekishe bloods, and man of greatest fame.

Howbeit Phanias writeth, that his mother was not a
Thracian, but borne in the countrie of Caria : and they doe
not call her Abrotonon, but Euterpe. And Neanthes sayeth
furthermore, that she was of Halicamassus, the chiefest cittie
of all the Realme of Caria. For which cause when the
straungers dyd assemble at Cynosargos (a place of exercise
without the gate dedicated to Hercules, which was not a
right god, but noted an alien, in that his mother was a mortall
woman :) Themistocles persuaded divers youthes of the most
honourable houses, to goe down with him, and to annointe
them selves at Cynosargos, conningly thereby taking away
the difference betwene the right and alien sorte. But setting
a parte all these circumstaunces, he was no doubt allied unto
the house of the Lycomedians : for Themistocles caused the
chappell of this familie, which is in the village of Phlyes,
being once burnt by the barbarous people, to be buylt up
againe at his owne charges : and as Simonides sayeth, he dyd
set it forth and enriche it with pictures. Moreover every
man doth confesse it, that even from his childhood they dyd
perceyve he was geven to be very whotte headed, sturring,
wise, and of good spirite, and enterprising of him selfe to
doe great things, and borne to rule weighty causes. For at

282

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

such dayes and bowers as he was taken from his booke, and THEMIS-
had leave to playe, be never played, nor would never be idle, TOCLES
as other children were : but they allwayes founde him con-
ning some oration without booke, or making it alone by
him selfe, and the ground of his matter was ever comonly,
either to defend, or accuse some of his companions. Where-
upon his schoolemaster observing him, ofte sayed unto him :
Suer some great matter hangeth over thy head my boye, for
it cannot be chosen but that one daye thou shalt doe some
notable good thing, or some extreme mischief. Therefore
when they went about to teache him any thing, only to
checke his nature, or to facion him with good manner and
civilitie, or to studie any matter for pleasure or honest
pastime : he would slowly and carelesly learne of them.
But if they delivered him any matter of wit, and things of
weight concerning state : they sawe he would beate at it
marvelously, and would understande more then any could
of his age and cariage, trusting altogether to his naturall
mother wit. This was the cause, that being mocked after-
wardes by some that had studied humanitie, and other
liberall sciences, he was driven for revenge and his owne
defence, to aunswer with great and stowte wordes, saying,
that in deede he could no skill to tune a harpe, nor a violl,
nor to playe of a psalterion : but if they dyd put a cittie
into his handes that was of small name, weake, and litle, he
knewe wayes enough how to make it noble, stronge, and
great. Nevertheles, Stesimbrotus ^vriteth, how he went to
Anaxagoras schoole, and that under Melissus he studied Themistocles
naturall philosophic. But herein he was greatly deceaved, ^^^ Anaxa-
for that he tooke no great hede unto the time. For fig^gjl,"
Melissus was captaine of the Samians against Pericles, at schoUer.
what time he dyd laye seige unto the cittie of Samos. Now
this is true, Pericles was much younger then Themistocles,
and Anaxagoras dwelt with Pericles in his owne house.
Therefore we have better reason and occasion to beleeve
those that write, Themistocles dyd determine to foUowe
Mnesiphilus Phrearian. For he was no professed Orator, MnesiphUus
nor naturall philosopher, as they termed it in that time: but Phrearian,
made profession of that which then they called wisedome.

283

THEMIS-
TOCLES

What wise-
dome was in
olde time.

Howe the

name of
Sophisters
came up.

Themistocles
youthe.

The privie
grudge be-
twext Themis-
tocles and
Aristides.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

Which was no other thing, but a certen knowledge to handle
great causes, and an indevour to have a good wit and judg-
ment in matters of state and government : which profession
beginning in Solon, dyd continue, and was taken up from
man to man, as a secte of philosophic. But those that came
sithence, have mingled it with arte of speache, and by litle
and litle have translated the exercise of deedes, unto bare
and curious wordes : whereupon they were called Sophisters^
as who would saye, counterfeate wise men. Notwithstanding,
when Themistocles beganne to medle with the government
of the common weale, he followed much Mnesiphilus. In
the first parte of his youth, his behaviour and doings were
very light and unconstant, as one caried awaye with a rashe
head, and without any order or discretion : by reason where-
of his manners and conditions seemed marvelously to chaunge,
and oftimes fell into very ill favored events, as him self dyd
afterwards confesse by saying : that a ragged colte oftimes
proves a good horse, specially if he be well ridden, and
broken as he should be. Other tales which some will seeme
to adde to this, are in my opinion but fables. As that his
father dyd disinherite him, and that his mother for very care
and sorowe she tooke to see the lewde life of her sonne, dyd
kill her self. For there are that write to the contrary, that
his father being desirous to take him from dealing in govern-
ment, dyd goe and shewe him all alongest the sea shore, the
shippewracks and ribbes of olde gallyes cast here and there,
whereof no reckoning was made, and sayed to him : Thus the
people use their govemours, when they can serve no lenger.
Howsoever it was, it is most true that Themistocles earnestly
gave him self to state, and was sodainely taken with desire
of glorie. For even at his first entrie, bicause he would set
foote before the prowdest, he stoode at pyke against the
greatest and mightiest persones, that bare the swaye and
government, and specially against Aristides, Lysimachus
Sonne, who ever encountered him, and was still his adversarie
opposite. Yet it seemeth the evil will he conceyved toward
him, came of a very ight cause. For they both loved
Stesilaus, that was borne in the cittie of Teos, as Ariston the
philosopher writeth. And after this jealousie was kindled
284

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

betweene them, they allwayes tooke contrary parte one THEMIS-
against another, not only in their private likings, but also in TOCLES
the government of the common weale. Yet I am persuaded,
that the difference of their manners and conditions, did
much encrease the grudge and discorde betwext them. For
Aristides being by nature a very good man, a just dealer, Aristides a
and honest of life, and one that in all his doings would never just man.
flatter the people, nor serve his owne glorie, but rather to
the contrary would doe, would saye, and counsaill allwayes
for the most ibenefit and commoditie of the common weale :
was oftetimes enforced to resist Themistocles, and disapoint
his ambition, being ever busilie moving the people, to take
some new matter in hande. For they reporte of him, that
he was so inflamed with desire of glorie, and to enterprise Themistocles
great matters, that being but a very yoong man at the ambition,
battell of Marathon, where there was no talke but of the
worthines of captaine Miltiades that had wonne the battell :
he was found many times solitarilie there alone devising with
him self : besides, they saye he could then take no rest in the
night, neither would goe to playes in the daye time, nor
would keepe corapanie with those whom he was accustomed
to be familiar withall before. Furthermore, he would tell
them that woundred to see him so in his muses, and chaunged,
and asked him what he ayled : that Miltiades victorie would
not let him sleepe, bicause other thought this overthrow at
Marathon, would have made an end of all warres. Howbeit
Themistocles was of a contrary opinion, and that it was but
a beginning of greater troubles. Therefore he daylie studied
howe to prevent them, and how to see to the safetie of
Greece, and before occasion offered, he did exercise his cittie
in feats of warre, foreseeing what should followe after.
Wherefore, where the cittizens of Athens before dyd use to
devide among them selves the revenue of their mines of
silver, which were in a parte of Attica called Laurion : he
alone was the first that durst speake to the people, and per- Themistocles
suade tliem, that from thenceforth they should cease that persuaded his
distribution among them selves, and employe the money of contnemen to
the same in making of gallyes, to make warres against the ^^ ^ ^^ ^^^'
^ginetes. For their warres of all Greece were most cruell,

285

THEMIS-
TOCLES

The Athe-
nians bent
their force
to sea, by
Themistocles
persuasion.

Themistocles
a good hus-
band to looke
for his profit.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

bicause they were lords of the sea, and had so great a number
of shippes. This persuasion drue the cittizens more easely
to Themistocles minde, than the threatning them with king
Darius, or the Persians would have done : who were farre
from them, and not feared that they would come neere unto
them. So this oportunitie taken of the hatred and jealousie
betwene the Athenians and the ^ginetes, made the people
to agree, of the said money to make an hundred gallyes,
with which they fought against king Xerxes, and did over-
come him by sea. Now after this good beginning and
successe, he wanne the cittizens by degrees to bende their
force to sea, declaring unto them, howe by lande they were
scant able to make heade against their equalles, whereas by
their power at sea, they should not only defende them selves
from the barbarous people, but moreover be able to com-
maund all Grece. Hereupon he made them good mariners,
and passing sea men, as Plato sayeth, where before they
were stowte and valliant souldiers by lande. This gave his
enemies occasion to cast it in his teethe afterwards, that he
had taken away from the Athenians the pike and the target,
and had brought them to the banke and the ower : and so
he got the upper hand of Miltiades. Who inveyed against
him in that, as Stesimbrotus writeth. Now after he had
thus his will, by bringing this sea service to passe, whether
thereby he dyd overthrow the justice of the comon weale or
not, I leave that to the philosophers to dispute. But that
the preservation of all Grece stoode at that time upon the
sea, and that the gallyes only were the cause of setting up
Athens againe : Xerxes him self is a sufficient witnes, besides
other proofes that might be brought thereof. For his armie
by lande being yet whole, and unset on, when he saw his
armie by sea broken, dispersed, and souncke, he fled straight
upon it, confessing as it were that he was nowe to weake to
deale any more with the Greecians, and left Mardonius his
lieutenant in Greece, of purpose in my opinion, rather to let
that the Greecians should not followe him, then for any hope
he had to overcome them. Some write of Themistocles,
that he was a very good husband for his own profit, and
carefull to looke to his things : for he dyd spende liberally,
286

m

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

and loved ofte to make sacrifices, and honorably to receyve THEMIS-
and entertaine straungers : wherefore he had good reason to TOCLES
be carefuU to get, to defraye his charges. Other to the
contrary, blame him much, that he was to nere, and miser-
able : for some saye, he would sell presents of meate that
were geven him. He dyd aske one Philides on a time, which
had a brede of mares, a colte of gifte : who denying him
flatly, he was so angrie, that he threatned him ere it were
long he would make his house the horse of wodde, with the
which Troia was taken. Meaning covertly to let him under-
stande, that he would shortly set strife and quarrel betwext
him, and his nearest kinsemen and familliar friends. It is
true that he was the most ambitious man of the world. For Themistocles
when he was but a young man, and scantly knowen, he extremely
earnestly intreated one Epicles, borne at Hermionna, an ^'"''it^**"^.
excellent player of the citherne, and counted at that time
the conningest man in all Athens at that instrument, that
he would come and teache his arte at his house : and all was
no more, but that many people being desirous to heare him
playe, should aske for his house, and come thither to him.
And one yere when he went unto the feast and assembly of
the playes Olympicall, he would nedes keepe open house for
all commers, have his tents richely furnished, and a great
traine of servants and all other furniture, only to contende
with Cimon. This marvelously spighted the Greecians, who
thought Themistocles expences fit for Cimons countenance,
and abilitie, bicause he was a young gentleman, and of a
noble house : but for him that was but a newe come man,
and would beare a greater porte, then either became his
calling or abilitie, they thought it not only unallowable in
him, but meere presumption and vaine glorie. Another
time he defrayed the whole charges of a tragedie which was
played openly : and being set out therein to have wonne the
prise, and the Athenians being marvelous desirous of the
honour in such playes, he caused this victorie of his to be
painted in a table, which he did dedicate and set up in
a temple, with this inscription : ' Themistocles Phrearian
' defrayed the charges : Phrynicus made it : Adimantus was
' chief ruler." Yet notwithstanding he was well taken of the

287

THEMIS-
TOCLES

A wise saying
of Themis-
tocles.

Themistocles
made Aris-
tides to be
banished.

Epicydes an
orator sued to
be generall.

Arthmius
defamed for
bribing.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

common people, partly bicause he would speake to every
cittizen by his name, no man telling him their names : and
partly also bicause he shewed him self an upright judge in
private mens causes. As one daye he aunswered the poet
Simonides, borne in Chio, who dyd request an unreasonable
matter at his hands, at that time when he was governour of
the cittie : Thou couldest be no good poet, Simonides, if
thou diddest singe against the rules of musike : neither my
self a good governour of a citie, if I should doe any thing
against the lawe. And mocking the same Simonides another
time, he told him he was but a foole to speake ill of the
Corinthians, considering they were lords of so great and
strong a cittie. Likewise he was not wise to make him self
to be drawen, being so deformed and ill favored. But being
growne in credit, and having wonne the favour of the people,
he was such an enemy to Aristides, that in the end he made
him to be expulsed and banished Athens, for 5 yeres. When
newes were brought that the king of Persia was onwardes
on his jorney and coming downe to make warres upon the
Greecians : the Athenians consulted whom they should make
their generall. And it is reported, that all their common
counsellers which were wont to speake in matters, fearing
the daunger, dyd drawe backe, save an orator called Epicydes,
Euphemides sonne, very eloquent in speache, but somwhat
womanishe, fainte harted, and gredie of money, offred him
self to sue for this charge, and had some hope to obteine it.
Wherefore Themistocles fearing all would not be well, if it
fell to this man to be generall of the armie, he bought out
Epicydes ambition with ready money, and so made him
let fall his sute. It fell out Themistocles was greatly
comended, about that was done to the interpreter, that came
with the king of Persiaes ambassadours, and demaunded the
empire of the Greecians both by sea and lande, that they
should acknowledge obedience to the King. For he caused
him to be taken, and put to death by a comon consent, for
using the Greeke tongue in the service and commaundement
of the barbarous people. It was a notable thing also, that
at his motion, Arthmius born at Zelea, was noted of infamie,
both he, his children, and all his posteritie after him, bicause
288

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

he brought gold from the king of Persia, to corrupt and THEMIS-
winne the Greecians. But the greatest and worthiest acte TOCLES
he did in those parts, was this : that he pacified all civill
warres among the Greecians, persuading the citties to leave
of their quarrels untill the warres were done, in the which
they saye Chileus Arcadian did helpe him more then any
other man. He being now chosen generall of the Athenians, Themistocles
went about presently to imbarke his cittizens into gallyes, generall of the
declaring to them they should leave their cittie, and goe ^ enians
mete with the barbarous King by sea, so farre from the Xerxes.
coast of Greece as they could : but the people did not
thincke that good. Wherefore he led great numbers of
souldiers by lande, into the countrie of Tempes with the
Lacedaemonians, to keepe the passage and entrie into Thes-
salie, against the barbarous people, which countrie stoode
yet sownde to Greece, and not revolted to the Medes.
Afterwards the Grecians coming from thence without any
acte done, and the Thessalians also being wonne somewhat
on the Kings side, for that all the whole country unto Bceotia
was at the devotion and goodwill of the barbarous people :
then the Athenians beganne to finde, howe Themistocles
opinion to fight by sea was very good. Wherupon they
sent him with their navie to the cittie of Artemisium, to
kepe the straight. There the other Grecians would have
had the Lacedaemonians and their admirall Eurybiades to
have had the authoritie and commaundement of the rest.
But the Athenians would not set sayle under any other
admirall then their own, bicause theirs were the greatest
number of shippes in the armie, and above all the other
Grecians. Themistocles foreseing the daunger that was
likely to fall out amongest them selves, dyd willingly yelde
the whole authoritie unto Eurybiades, and got the Athenians
to agree unto it : assuring them, that if they behaved them
selves valliantly in these warres, the other Greecians of their
own accorde would afterwards submit them selves unto
their obedience. Hereby it appeareth, that he only of all
other was at that time, the originall cause of the saving of
Greece, and dyd most advaunce the honour and glorie of
the Athenians, by making them to overcome their enemies
2 O 289

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

THEMIS- by force, and their friends and allies with liberalitie. In the
TOCLES meane time, Eurybiades seing the barbarous flete riding at
anker, all alongest the He of Aphetes, with such a great
number of shippes in the vaward, he beganne to be affrayed.
And understanding moreover, there were other 200 sayle
that went to cast about the He of Sciathe, and so to come
in : he presently would have retired further into Greece, and
would have drawen neerer unto Peloponnesus, to the end
their army by sea might be neare their army by lande, as
thinking it unpossible to fight with king Xerxes power by
sea. Whereupon the inhabitants of the He of Euboea, fear-
ing least the Grecians would to the spoyle of the enemy,
they caused Themistocles secretly to be spoken with all, and
sent him a good somme of money by one called Pelagon.
Themistocles tooke the money, as Herodotus writeth, and
gave it to Eurybiades. But there was one Architeles
amongest the Athenians, captaine of the galley called the
holy galley, that was much against Themistocles intended
purpose : who having no money to paye his mariners, dyd
what he could that they might departe with speede from
thence. Themistocles sturred up then his souldiers more
against him then before, insomuch as they went aborde his
galley, and tooke his supper from him. Architeles being
marvelous angrie and offended withall, Themistocles sent
him both bread and meat in a pannier, and in the bottome
thereof he had put a talent of silver, bidding him for that
night to suppe with that, and the next morning he should
provide for his mariners, or els he would complaine, and
accuse him to the cittizens that he had taken money of the
enemies. Thus it is written by Phanias Lesbian. Moreover
these first fights in the straite of Eubcea, betweene the
Greecians, and the barbarous people, were nothing to pur-
pose to end the warres betwene them. For it was but a
taste geven unto them, which served the Greecians turne very
much, by making them to see by experience, and the manner
of the fight, that it was not the great multitude of shippes,
nor the pompe and sumptuous setting out of the same, nor
the prowde barbarous showts and songes of victorie that
could stande them to purpose, against noble harts and
290

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

valliant minded souldiers, that durst grapple with them, and THEMIS-
come to hands strokes ^vith their enemies : and that they TOCLES
should make no reckoning of all that bravery and bragges,
but should sticke to it like men, and laye it on the jacks of
them. The which (as it seemeth) the poet Pindarus under-
stoode very well, when he sayed touching the battell of
Artemisium :

The stowte Athenians, have nowe foundation layed,
unto the libertie of Greece, by thes assaults assayed.

For out of doubt the beginning of victorie, is to be bardie. The coast of
This place Artemisium is a parte of the lie of Euboea, look- Artemisium.
ing towards the North, above the cittie of Estiaea, lying
directly over against the country which somtimes was under
the obedience of the Philoctetes, and specially of the cittie
of Olizon. There is a litle temple of Diana, surnamed
Orientall, round about the which there are trees, and a com-
passe of pillers of white stone, which when a man rubbes
with his hande, they shewe of the culler and savour of
safFerne. And in one of those pillers there is an inscription
of lamentable verses to this effect :

When boldest bloods of Athens by their might

had overcome, the numbers infinite

of Asia : they then in memorie,

of all their dedes, and valliant victorie

beganne to build, this noble monument :

and to Diane the same they dyd present,

for that they had the Medes likewise subdued,

and with their bloud, their hardy hands embrued.

There is a place scene also upon that coast at this daye, a
good waye into the lande, in the middest whereof are great
sands full of blacke dust as ashes : and they thincke that they
burnt in that place all dead bodies and olde shippwracks.
Newes being brought what had bene done in the countrie of
Thermopyles, how that king Leonidas was dead, and how
that Xerxes had wonne that entry into Greece by lande :
the Greecians then brought their whole army by sea more
into Greece, the Athenians being in the rereward in this
retire, as men whose hartes were lifte up with the glorie of

291

THEMIS-
TOCLES

Themistocles
stratageame.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

their former valliant dedes. Nowe Themistocles passing by
those places where he knewe the enemies must of necessitie
fall upon the lee shore for harborow : he dyd ingrave certen
wordes spoken unto the lonians, in great letters in stone,
which he founde there by chaunce, or purposely brought
thither for that purpose, where there was very good barber
for shippes, and fit places also to lye in. These were the
wordes, that the lonians should take the Greecians partes
being their founders and auncesters, and such as fought for
their libertie : or at the least they should trouble the armie
of the barbarous people, and doe them all the mischief they
could, when the Greecians should come to fight with them.
By these words he hoped either to bring the lonians to take
their parte, or at the least he should make the barbarous
people jealous and mistrustfull of them. Xerxes being
already entred in the uppermost parte of the province of
Dorica, into the countrie of Phocida, burning and destroying
the townes and citties of the Phocians : the other Greecians
laye still and suffered the invasion, notwithstanding the
Athenians did request them to mete with the barbarous
armie in Boeotia, to save the countrie of Attica, as before they
had done, when they went by sea to Artemisium. But they
would not hearken to it in no wise, and all was bicause they
were desirous they should drawe to the straite of Peloponnesus,
and there they should assemble the whole strength and
power of Greece within the barre of the same, and make a
strong substantiall walle from the one sea to the other. The
Athenians were very angrie at this devise, and were half dis-
coraged and out of harte, to see them selves thus forsaken
and cast of, by the rest of the Greecians. For it was out of
all speache that they alone should fight against so many
thousands of enemies : and therefore their only remedy was,
to leave their cittie : and to get them to the sea. The
people were very unwilling to listen hereunto, making their
reckoning it was nedeles to be carefull to overcome, or to
save them selves, having once forsaken the temples of their
godds, and the graves of their parents. Wherfore Themis-
tocles seeing that neither reason, nor mans persuasion could
bring the people to like his opinion
292

he beganne to frame a

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

devise (as men doe use somtimes in tragedies) and to threaten THEMIS-
the Athenians with signes from heaven, with oracles and TOCLES
aunswers from the goddes. And the occasion of Minervaes
draggon served his tume for a celestiall signe and token,
which by good fortune dyd not appeare in those dayes in
the temple as it was wont to doe : and the priests found the
sacrifices which were daylie offered to him, whole and un-
touched by any. Wherefore being enformed by Themistocles
what they should doe, they spred a brute abroade amongest
the people, that the goddesse Minerva, the protectour and
defendour of the cittie, had forsaken it, pointing them the
waye unto the sea. And againe he wanne them by a pro-
phecie, which commaunded them to save them selves in
walles of wodd : saying, that the walles of wodd dyd signifie Wodden
nothing els but shippes. And for this cause he saied, Apollo walles signifie
in his oracle called Salamina divine, not miserable nor unfor- ^"'PP^-
tunate, bicause it should geve the name of a most happy
victorie which the Greecians should get there. And so at
the last they following his counsell, he made this decree, that
they should leave the cittie of Athens to the custodie of the The Athe-
goddesse Pallas, that was lady and governour of the country, nians forsake
and that all those which were of age to carie any weapon m^ -^.^i
should get them to the gallyes : and for the rest, that every persuasion
man should see his wife, children, and bondmen placed in and doe goe
some suer place as well as he could. After this decree was to the sea.
past and authorised by the people, the most parte of them
did convey their aged fathers and mothers, their wives and
litle children, into the cittie of Trcezen, where the Troeze-
nians receyved them very lovingly and gently. For they gave
order that they should be entertained of the common charge,
allowing them a pece, two obulos of their money a daye, and
suffered the young children to gather fruite wheresoever they
founde it : and furthermore dyd hier schoolemasters at the
charge of the common wealth, to bring them up at schoole.
He that was the penner of this decree, was one called
Nicagoras. The Athenians at that time, had no comon
money, but the Senate of the Areopagites (as Aristotle
sayeth) furnished every souldier with eight drachmas, which
was the only meane that the gallyes were armed. Yet

293

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

THEMIS- Clidemus writeth, that this was a crafte devised of Themis-
TOCLES tocles. The Athenians being come downe unto the haven
of Piraea, he made as though Pallas tergat (on the which
Medusus heade was graven) had bene lost, and was not
found with the image of the goddesse : and faining to seeke
for it, he ransacked every corner of the gallyes, and founde
a great deale of silver which private persones had hidden
amongest their fardells. This money was brought out
unto the people, and by this meanes the souldiers that
were shipped had wherewithall, to provide them of
necessary things. When time came that they were to
departe the haven, and that all the cittie of Athens had
taken sea : one waye it was a pittie to beholde them.
Another waye it made all sortes to wounder, that considered
the boldnes and corage of those men, which before sent
awaye their fathers, and mothers from them, and were
nothing moved at the teares, cries, sherikes, and imbrasings
of their wives, their children, and departures, but stowtly
and resolutely helde on their course to Salamina. Notwith-
standing, there were many olde cittizens left still of necessitie
in Athens, bicause they could not be removed for very
extreme age, which sturred many with compassion toward
them. There was besides, a certen pittie that made mens
harts to yerne, when they saw the poore doggs, beasts, and
cattell ronne up and downe bleating, mowing, and howling
out alowde after their masters, in token of sorowe, when
they dyd imbarke. Amongest these, there goeth a straunge
Xanthippus tale of Xanthippus dogge, who was Pericles father : which
dogge. for sorowe his master had left him behinde him, dyd cast

him self after into the sea, and swimming still by the galleys
side wherein his master was, he helde on to the He of
Salamina, where so sone as the poore curre landed, his
breath fayled him, and dyed presently. They saye, at this
The dogges daye the place called the doggs grave, is the very place
grave. where he was buried. These were straunge actes of Themis-

tocles, that beholding the Athenians sory for the absence of
Aristides, and fearing least of spyte he taking parte with the
barbarous nation, might have bene the ruine and distruction
of the state of Greece, being banished five yeres also before
294

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

the warres, by Themistocles procurement : that he dyd set THEMIS-
forth a decree, that all those which had bene banished for TOCLES
a time, might retume home againe, to doe, to saye, and to Aristides re-
geve counsell to the cittizens in those things, which they turneth from
thought best for the preservation of Greece. And also bv'rhemis^
where Eurybiades, being generall of the Greecians whole tocles decree,
army by sea, for the worthines of the cittie of Sparta, but
otherwise a rancke coward at time of neede, woidd in any
case departe from thence, and retire into the goulfe of
Peloponnesus, where all the army of the Peloponnesians was
by lande assembled : that Themistocles withstood him, and
did hinder it all he could. At that time also it was, that
Themistocles made so notable aunswers, which specially are Notable
noted, and gathered together. For when Eurybiades sayed aunswers of
one day unto him : Themistocles, those that at playes and Themistocles.
games doe rise before the company, are whistled at. It is
true, said Themistocles : but those that tarie last so, doe
never winne any game. Another time Eurybiades having a
staffe in his hande lift it up, as though he would have striken
him. Strike and thou wilt, said he, so thou wilt heare me.
Eurybiades womidring to see him so pacient, suffered him
then to saye what he would. Then Themistocles beganne
to bring him to reason : but one that stoode by sayed unto
him : Themistocles, for a man that hath neither cittie nor
house, it is an ill parte to will others that have, to forsake
all. Themistocles turning to him, replied : We have will-
ingly forsaken our houses and walles, sayed he, cowardly
beaste that thou arte, bicause we would not become slaves
for feare to lose things, that have neither soule nor life.
And yet our cittie I tell thee is the greatest of all Greece :
for it is a fleete of two hundred galleys ready to fight, which
are come hither to save you if you list. But if you will
needes goe your wayes, and forsake us the seconde time :
you shall heare tell ere it be long, that the Athenians have
another free cittie, and have possessed againe as much good
land, as that they have already lost. These wordes made
Eurybiades presently thincke, and feare, that the Athenians
would not goe, and that they would forsake them. And
as another Eretriau was about to utter his reason against

295

THEMIS-
TOCLES

The Sleue is a
fishe facioned
like a sworde.

Themistocles
stratageame,
by the which
he wanue the
battell at
Salamina.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

Themistocles opinion : he could not but aunswer him : Alas,
and must you my masters talke of warres to, that are like to
a Sleue? In deede you have a sworde, but you lacke a
harte. Some write, that whilest Themistocles was talking
thus from his galley, they spyed an owle flying on the right
hande of the shippes, which came to light on one of the
mastes of the galleys : and that hereupon all the other
Greecians dyd agree to his opinion, and prepared to fight by
sea. But when the flete of their enemies shippes shewed on
the coastes of Attica, harde by the haven Phalericus, and
covered all the rivers thereabouts, as farre as any bodie could
see, and that king Xerxes him selfe was come in persone
with all his army by lande, to campe by the sea side : so
that his whole power both by lande and sea might be
scene in sight : then the Greecians had forgotten all Themis-
tocles goodly persuasions, and beganne to incline againe to
the Peloponnesians, considering how they might recover the
goulfe of Peloponnesus, and they dyd growe very angry,
when any man went about to talke of any other matter.
To be shorte, it was concluded that they should sayle awaye
the next night following, and the masters of the shippes had
order geven them to make all things readie for them to
departe. Themistocles perceyving their determination, he
was marvelous angry in his minde, that the Greecians would
thus disperse them selves a sender, repairing every man to
his owne cittie, and leaving the advantage which the nature
of the place, and the straight of the arme of the sea, where
they laye in barber together, did offer them : and so he
bethought him selfe howe this was to be holpen. Sodainely
the practise of one Sicinus came into his minde, who being a
Persian borne, and taken prisoner before in the warres, loved
Themistocles very well, and was schoolemaster to his children.
This Sicinus he secretly sent unto the king of Persia, to
advertise him that Themistocles (generall of the Athenians)
was very desirous to become his majesties servaunte, and
that he dyd let him understand betimes, that the Greecians
were determined to flye : and therefore that he wished him
not to let them scape, but to set upon them, whilest they
were troubled and affrayed, and farre from their army by
^96

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

lande, to the ende that upon a sodaine he might overthrowe THEMIS-
their whole power by sea. Xerxes supposing this inteUi- TOCLES
gence came from a man that wished him well, receyved the
messenger with great joye, and thereupon gave present order
to his captaines by sea, that they should imbarke their men
into the other shippes at better leysure, and that presently
they should put out with all possible speede, two hundred
sayle to followe the Greeeians in the taile, to shut up the
foreland of the straite, and to compasse the lies all about,
that not one of his enemies shippes should scape : and so it
fell out. Then Aristides (Lysimachus sonne) being the first
that perceyved it, went to Themistocles tente, though he
was his enemie, and through his only meanes had bene
banished before, as ye have heard : and calling him out, told
him how they were environned. Themistocles, who knewe
well enough the goodnes of this man, being very glad he
came at that time to seeke him out, declared unto him the
pollicie he had used by the message of Sicinus, praying him
to put to his helpe to staye the Greeeians, and to procure Themistocles
with him, considering his worde had more authoritie among ^^^ Aristides
them, that they would fight within the straight of Salamina. ^'gjher to^'eve
Aristides commending his great wisdome, went to deale ^vith battell.
the captaines of the other gallyes, and to procure them to
fight. For all this, they would not credit that he sayed,
untill such time as there arrived a galley of Tenediena,
whereof one Panetius was captaine, who being stolen out of
the hoste of the barbarous army, brought certen newes, that
the straight out of doubt was shut up. So that besides the
necessitie which dyd urge them, the spight which the Greeeians
concey\'ed thereof, dyd provoke them to hazard the battell.
The next morning by breake of daye, king Xerxes placed
him selfe on a marvelous steepe highe hill, from whence he
might descerne his whole flete, and the ordering of his army
by sea, above the temple of Hercules, as Phanodemus writetli.
Which is the narrowe waye or channell betwext the He of
Salamina, and the coast of Attica : or as Acestodorus sayeth,
upon the confines of the territories of Megara, above the
pointe which they commonly call the homes. There Xerxes
set up a throne of golde, and had about him many secretaries,
2P 297

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

THEMIS-
TOCLES

Xerxes king
of Persia had
a thousand
ships.

to write all that was done in the battell. But as Themis-
tocles was sacrificing unto the goddes in his galley that was
admiral, they brought to him three young prisoners, fayer of
complexion, richely arrayed with gold and juells, whom they
sayed were the children of Sandauce the kings sister, and of
prince Autarctus. So soone as Euphrantides the soothesayer
had scene them, and at their arrivall observed there rose a
great bright flame out of the sacrifice, and at the very selfe
same instant that one on his right hand had sneesed : he
tooke Themistocles by the hand, and willed him to sacrifice
all those three prisoners unto the god Bacchus, surnamed
Omestes, as much to saye, as the cruell Bacchus : for in
doing it, the Greecians should not only be saved, but they
should have the victorie over their enemies. Themistocles
woundred much, to heare so straunge and terrible a com-
maundement of the soothsayer. Nevertheles, the comon
sorte following his custome, which is, to promise safety soner
in the greatest daungers, and most desperate cases, by
straunge and unreasonable, rather then by reasonable and
ordinary meanes : they beganne to call upon the god with
one voyce, and bringing the three prisoners neere unto the
altar, they compelled him to performe the sacrifice in that
sorte as the soothesayer had appointed. Phanias Lesbian,
an excellent philosopher, and well scene in stories and
antiquities, reporteth this matter thus. As for the number
of the shippes of the barbarous navie : -^schylus the poet,
in a tragedie which he intituled the Persians, knowing cer-
tainely the trothe, sayeth thus :

King Xerxes had, a thousand shippes 1 knowe,
amongest the which, two hundred were (I trowe)
and seven : which all the rest dyd oversayle

with swifter course. This is withouten fayle.

The Athenians had nine score, in every one of the which
there were eightene souldiers, whereof foure of them were
archers, and all the rest armed men. Themistocles also did
with no lesse skill and wisedom choose his time and place to
fight, forbearing to charge his enemies, untill the hower was
come, that of ordinarie custome the sea winde arose, and

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GRECIANS AND ROMANES

brought in a rough tyde within the channell, which dyd not THEMIS-
hurt the Graecian gallyes, being made lowe and snugge, but TOCLES
greatly offended the Persian gallyes, being highe cargged,
heavie, and not yare of steredge, and made them lye side-
long to the Greecians, who fiercely set upon them having
allwayes an eye to Themistocles direction, that best foresawe
their advantage. At the same time, Ariamenes, Xerxes Ariameues
admirall, a man of great valure and worthiest of the Kings Xerxes
brethern, bestowed arrowes and dartes as it were from the ^"'"i'"^^^-
walles of a castell, charging the gallye of Aminias Decelian,
and Sosicles Pedian, which were joyned and grappled with
him, and fiercely entring the same, was by them valliantly
receyved upon their pikes, and thrust over borde into the
sea. Whose bodie floting amongest other shippewracks
Artemisia knowing, caused to be caried to king Xerxes.
Nowe whilest this battell stoode in these termes, they saye
that there appeared a great flame in the element, toward the
cittie of Eleusin, and that a lowde voyce was heard through
all the plaine of Thriasia unto the sea, as if there had bene a
number of men together, that had songe out alowde, the holy
songe of lacchus. And it seemed by litle and litle, that
there rose a clowde in the ayer from those which sange : that
left the land, and came and lighted on the gallyes in the
sea. Other affirmed, that they sawe armed men, which did
reache out their hands from the He of ^Egina, towards the
Greecian gallyes : and they thought they were the .^acides,
for whose helpe they all prayed before the battell was
begonne. The first man of the Athenians that tooke any of
the enemies shippes, was Lycomedes, a captaine of a gallye :
who having taken very rich furniture and flagges, did after-
wards consecrate them to Apollo laurell : as ye would saye,
victorious. The other Greecians in the fronte being equall
in number with the barbarous shipps, by reason of the
straightnes of the arme of the sea wherein they fought, and
so straightned as they could not fight but by one and one,
where by the Barbarians disorderly layed one another
abourde, that they did hinder them selves with their over
multitude : and in the end were so sore pressed upon by the
Greecians, that they were constrayned to flye by night, after

299

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

THEMIS- they had fought and mainteined battell, until it was very
TOCLES darke. So the Graecians wanne that glorious and famous

The Grecians victorie : of the which maye truly be affirmed that, as

victorieof the Simonides sayeth :

Persians navy

°y ^®®' Was never yet, nor Greeke nor Barbarous crew

that could by sea, so many men subdew :
Nor that obteind, so famous victorie
in any fight, against their enemie.

Thus was the victorie wonne through the valliantnes and

corage of those that fought that battell, but especially

through Themistocles great policie and wisdome. After

this battell Xerxes being mad for his losse, thought to fill

up the arme of the sea, and to passe his armie by lande,

upon a bridge, into the He of Salamina. Themistocles,

bicause he would feele Aristides opinion, tolde him as they

were talking together, that he thought best to goe and

occupie the straight of Hellespont with the armie by sea, to

• breake the bridge of shippes which Xerxes had caused to be

made : to the ende, said he, that we maye take Asia into

Europe. Aristides liked not this opinion : for we have (said

he) fought all this while against this barbarous King, who

thought but to playe with us : But if we shut him within

Greece, and bring him to fight of necessitie to save his life :

such an enemy that commaundeth so great an armie, will no

more stand still as a looker on, and set at his ease under his

golden pavilion, to see the pastime of the battell, but will

prove everie waye, and be him selfe in every place at all

assayes to save him self from such a straight and daunger.

Thus with politicke care and foresight, he maye easely

amend his former fault committed by negligence, and doe

well enough, when he shall see his life and Kingdome both

Aristides depend upon it. Therefore Themistocles, I would thincke

counsell unto not best to breake his bridge at all, which he hath caused to

J^^tT^^b' k' ^^ made : but rather if we could, to build another to it, to

inff of Xerxes drive him out of Europe as sone as we could. Themistocles

bridge. then replied : Seeing you thincke this were good to be done,

we must all laye our heades together, to devise, how he maye

be forced to come out assone as we could. They breaking of

300

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

with this resolution, Themistocles sent immediately one of THEMIS-
the Kings eunuches, called Arsaces, that was one of the TOCLES
gromes of his chamber, whom he found out amongest the Themistocles
prisoners, and by him he sent this message unto the King, stratageame.
That the Greecians having wonne the battell of him by sea,
had decreed in their counsell, how they would goe to the
straight of Hellespont, to breake the bridge of shippes he
had caused to be made there. Whereof he thought good
to advertise him, for the goodwil he did beare him, and to
the ende he might bethincke him betimes, to get him away
to the sea within his own dominion, and so passe backe againe
into Asia as sone as he could, whilest he gave order to his
allies and confederates, to staye follo^ving him at the poope.
The barbarous King understanding these newes, was so
afFrayed, that he hoysed away with all possible speede. The
further foresight and great wisdome of Themistocles, and
Aristides, in marine causes, dyd manifestly appeare after-
wards in the battell the Greecians fought before the cittie of
Platea, against Mardonius, king Xerxes lieutenante : who
having but a smal power of the King his soveraines there,
dyd yet put the Greecians to great distresse, and in hazard
to have lost all. Of all the townes and citties that fought
in this battell, Herodotus writeth, that the cittie of ^Egina
wanne the fame for valliantnes above the rest : and of private
men, among the Grecians, Themistocles was judged the
worthiest man : althoucrh it was sore ajjainst their willes,
bicause they envied much his glory. For after the battell
done, all the captaines being gotten into the straight of
Peloponnesus, and having sworne upon the altar of their
sacrifices, that they would geve their voyces after their
consciences, to those they thought had best deserved it :
every one gave him selfe the first place for worthines, and
the seconde unto Themistocles. The Lacedaemonians caried Themistocles
him into Sparta, where they judged the honour and dignitie honored
to their admiral! Eurybiades : but the wisedome and pollicie ^^^'^ ^" *^c
they attributed to Themistocles. In token thereof they gave
him an olive braunche, and the goodliest coche that was in
their cittie : and moreover they sent three hundred of their
lusty youthes to accompany him, and couducte him out of

301

THEMIS-
TOCLES

Themistocles

ambition

noted.

Themistocles
sayings.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

their countrie. They saye, at the next feastes and assembly
of the playes Olympicall that were made after this victorie :
when Themistocles was once come into the showe place where
these games were played, the people looked no more on them
that fought, but all cast their eyes on him, shewing him to
the straungers which knewe him not, with their fingers, and
by clapping of their handes dyd witnesse howe much they
esteemed him. Whereat he him selfe tooke so great delite,
that he confessed to his familiar friends, he then dyd reape
the fruite and benefit of his sundry and painefull services
he had taken in hande, for the preservation of Greece : so
ambitious was he of nature, and covetous of honour, as we
maye easely perceyve by certen of his dedes and notable
sayings they have noted of him. For being chosen admirall
of Athens he never dispatched any causes private or publicke,
howsoever they fell out, untill the very daye of his departure,
and taking shippe : and all bicause that men seeing him ryd
much busines at once, and to speake with so many persones
together, they should esteeme him to be the notabler man,
and of the greater authoritie. Another time he walked upon
the sandes by the sea side, beholdmg the dead bodies of the
barbarous people, which the sea had cast up upon the shore :
and seing some of them that had on still their chaynes of
golde, and bracelets, he passed by on his waye, but shewed
them yet to his familiar friende that followed him, and
sayed unto him : Take thou those, for thou art not Themis-
tocles. And unto one Antiphates, who in his youth had
bene a goodly young boye, and at that time dyd scornefully
behave him selfe unto him, making no reckoning of him :
and now that he sawe him in authoritie came to see him, he
sayed : O my young sonne, and friend : we are both even at
one time (but to late) growen wise. He sayed the Athenians
dyd not esteeme of him in time of peace : but when any
storme of warres were towardes, and they stoode in any
daunger, they ranne to him then, as they ronne to the
shadowe of a plane tree, upon any sodaine raine : and after
fayer weather come againe, they cut awaye then the braunches,
and bowghes thereof. There was a man borne in the He of
Seripha, who being fallen out with him, dyd cast him in the
302

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

teethe, that it was not for his worthines, but for the noble THEMIS-
cittie wherein he was borne, that he had wonne such glorie. TOCLES
Thou saycst true sayed he : but neither should I ever have
wonne any great honour, if I had bene a Seriphian, nor thou
also if thou haddest bene an Athenian. An other time one
of the captaines of the cittie, having done good service unto
the common weale, made boast before Themistocles, and
compared his service equall with his. Themistocles to
aunswer him, tolde him a prety tale. That the working A prety tale
daye brawled on a time with the holy daye, repining against of Themis-
her, that he laboured for his living continually, and howe *o^^^^-
she dyd nothing but fill her bellie, and spende that they had
gotten. Thou hast reason sayed the holy daye. But if I
had not bene before thee, thou haddest not bene here nowe.
And so, if I had not bene then : where had you my masters
bene nowe ? His owne sonne was a litle to sawsie with his
mother, and with him also, bearing him self over boldely of
her good will, by meanes of her cockering of him. Where-
upon being merely disposed, he would saye that his sonne
could doe more then any man in all Greece. For, sayeth he, Themistocles
the Athenians commaunde the Graecians, I commaunde the saying of his
Athenians, my wife commaundeth me, and my sonne com- s**"^"^-
maundeth her. Moreover bicause he would be singular by
him selfe above all other men : having a pece of lande he
would sell, he willed the crier to proclaime open sale of it in
the market place, aad with all he should adde unto the sale,
that his lande laye by a good neighbour. An other time,
two men being suters to his daughter, he preferred the
honester before the richer, saying : he had rather have to his
sonne in lawe a man that lacked ffoodes, then goodes to
lacke a man. Ihese were Themistocles pleasaunt conceites
and aunswers. But after he had done all these things we
have spoken of before, he tooke in hande to buylde againe
the cittie and walles of Athens, and dyd corrupt the officers Themistocles
of Lacedaemonia with money, to the end they should not buylt a^g^aine
hinder his purpose, as Theopompus writeth. Or as all J{jg cittlrof
other saye when he had deceyved them by this subtiltie, he Athens,
went unto Sparta as ambassadour, sent thither of purpose
upon the complaintes of the Lacedaemonians, for that the

303

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

THEMIS-
TOCLES

A subtle
fetche of
Themistocles.

The haven
of Piraea
fortified.

Athenians dyd inclose their cittie againe with walles, who
were accused unto the counsaill of Sparta, by an orator
called Poliarchus, who was sent thither from the ^ginetes,
of purpose to prosecute this matter against the Athenians.
Themistocles stowtely denied it to them, and prayed them
for better understanding of the trothe, they would sende
some of their men thither to see it. This was but a fetche
only to winne by this delaye, the Athenians so muche more
time to rayse up their walles, and that the Athenians should
keepe as ostages for suertie of his persone, those they should
send to Athens, to bring backe the reporte thereof : and so
it fell out. For the Lacedaemonians being informed of the
trothe as it was, dyd him no hurte, but dissembling the mis-
liking they had to be thus abused by him, sent him awaye
safe and sounde, Afterwardes he made them also mende
and fortifie the haven of Piraea, having considered the
situation of the place, and all to incline the cittie to the sea.
Wherein he dyd directly contrary to all the counsell of the
auncient kings of Athens : who seeking (as they saye) to
withdrawe their people from the sea, and to accustome them
to live upon the lande, by planting, sowing, and plowing
their groundes, dyd devise and geve out abroade, the fable
they tell of the goddesse Pallas. And that is this, how she
contending with Neptune about the patronage of the country
of Athens, brought forth and shewed to the judges the olyve
tree, by meanes whereof she prevayled, and obteined the pre-
heminence. Even so Themistocles dyd not joyne the haven
of Piraea, unto the cittie of Athens, as the comicall poet
Aristophanes sayeth : but rather joyned the cittie unto the
haven Piraea, and the lande unto the sea. By this meanes
he made the people strong against the nobilitie, and brought
the communaltie to waxe bolder then they were before, by
reason the rule and authoritie fell into the handes of saylers,
mariners, pilottes, shippemasters, and such kinde of seafaring
men : so as the pulpet where all the oracles were made, stoode
in the market place of Pnyx, and dyd looke towardes the
sea. But the thirtie tyrannes that came in afterwardes, dyd
remove it, and turne it towardes the lande : holding opinion
to be strong by sea, was it that dyd mainteine the authoritie
304

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

of the popular state. And that contrariwise they which live THEMIS-
by the labour and toyle of the earthe, doe more willingly TOCLES
like the government of Nobilitie. Themistocles called to
minde another matter also of greater importance, to make
the cittie of Athens of a greater power by sea. For after
the retire of Xerxes, and that all the fleete and navie of the
Graecians wintered in the haven of Pagases : he sayed one
daye in an open assembly of the people, that he had thought
of a thing which would be very profitable and beneficiall for
them, but it was not to be tolde openly. The people willed
him then to imparte it to Aristides : and if he thought it
good, they would execute it speedely. Themistocles then
tolde Aristides : the thing he had considered of, was to burne
the Arcenal where the Graecians navy laye, and to set on
fire all their shippes. Aristides hearing his purpose, returned
to the people, and tolde them : howe nothing could be
more profitable, but with all more unjust, then that which
Themistocles had devised. The Athenians then willed Aris- The equitie
tides it should be let alone altogether. Furthermore when of the Athe-
the Lacedaemonians had exhibited their petition to the °^^°^*
counsell of the Amphictyons (that is the generall counsaill
of all the states of Graece assembled) howe the townes and
citties of Graece which had not bene parties with the
Graecians to the league, against the barbarous people, should
be put of wholy from this counsaill. Themistocles dowting
of the Argives, the Thessalians, and the Thebans also should
by this meanes be exempted, that the Lacedaemonians would
be then the greater number in voyces, and by this meanes
might doe what they would in this counsell : he spake so
consideratly for the citties which they would have thus dis-
charged, that he made the petitioners in the assembly utterly
to chaunge their opinion. Declaring, howe there were but
one and thirtie citties comprised only the league, and yet
that some of them were very weake and small : and howe it
were no reason, that rejecting all the rest of Grece, the
greatest authoritie of this counsaill should fall into the
handes of two or three of the chiefest citties alone. For
this cause chiefly the Lacedaemonians dyd ever beare him
extreme hatred, and dyd set up Cimon all they could, to be
2Q 305

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

THEMIS- allwayes adversary opposite unto him, and as it were to
TOCLES bearde him in all matters of state, and the government of
Athens. They procured him besides, the ill will and dis-
pleasure of all the friendes and confederates of the Athenians,
for that he went sayling still to and fro alongest the lies,
exacting money of the inhabitants of the same. And this
is to be knowen by the matter propounded by him to the
Andrians (of whom he would have had money) and by the
aunswer they made him, as Herodotus writeth. Which
Themistocles was, howe he had brought them two mightie goddes : Love,
goddes. Love and Force. And they aunswered him againe, that they also
and Force. ]^a,d two great goddesses, which kept them from geving of
The Andrians him any money : Povertie, and Impossibilitie. And to
goddesses, make this good also : Timocreon the Rhodian poet galled him
Povertie, ^q ^j^g quicke, when he sharpely taunted him, for calling

mpossi 1 1 16. j^g^jjy j^oj^g againe for money that were banished : and howe
for covetousnes of money he had betrayed, and forsaken, his
hoste and friende. The verses wherein this matter is men-
tioned, are to this effecte :

Who list commend worthy Pausanias,
Xanthippus or good Leotychides,
yet shall I seeme but light thereof to passe,
compared with valliant Aristides.

For yet was naye, the like in Athens towne,
nor never shall come none of like renowne.

Themistocles by right and due deserte,
is hated of Latona, for his lyes,
and for he bare a traitrous wicked harte,
who like a wretche, and nigard did devise,
for small rewardes, his host Timocreon
to holde, out of his countrie lalison.

He tooke for bribe (unjustly yet therewhile)
of redy coyne three talents fayre and bright,
revoking such as pleased him, from exile
and banishing full many a worthy wight.

Or putting them to death, without cause tolde,
he gate thereby, great heapes of coyne and golde.

But in the ende (O right reward for such)
this bribing wretch, was forced for to holde,
a tipling bowthe, most like a clowne or snuche,
at holy feastes and pastimes manifold,
which were amongest the people in those dayes
Istmiciane folke, dyd use the like allwayes.
306

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

And there he served, his gests with cold meat still, THEMIS-

whilest they that tasted of his cookerie, TOCLES

gan wishe that they (to ease their weary will)
had never lived to see the treccherie,
of false Themistocles, and that he might
no longer live, which wrought them such despight.

After this, he dyd more openly blase him to the worlde,
when he was banished and condemned : in a songe that had
beginning thus :

O Muse, let these my verses be disperst,
throughout all Graece, since they deserve no lesse :
and since the truthe which is in them rehearst,
deserveth fame, whom no man should suppresse.

They saye the cause was, why this Timocreon was banished :
the friendshippe which he had with the Barbarous people, and
for geving them intelligence. Whereof Themistocles was one
that judicially condemned him. Wherefore when Themis-
tocles him selfe was accused afterwards of the same faulte,
Timocreon then made these verses following against him :

Timocreon was not without his pheere,

which did conferre with Medes prively.
Since others mo, the selfe same blame might beare,

mo foxes lurke in dennes as well as I.

Besides these verses, Themistocles owne cittizens for the
ill will they bare him, were contented to heare him ill spoken
of. Therefore while he sought wayes, to redresse all this :
he was driven to use such meane, which more increased their
hatred toward him. For in his orations to the people, he
dyd ofte remember them of the good service he had done
them : and perceyving howe they were offended withall, he
was driven to saye : Why, are ye weary so ofte to receyve
good by one man ? Many of them were very angry with
him also, when he surnamed Diana (in the dedication of
her temple he made unto her) Aristobule, as much to saye,
as the good counseller : meaning thereby, howe he had
geven grave and wise counsell, both unto his cittie, and to
all the rest of the Grecians. He built this temple also
neere his house, in a place called Melita, where the hange-
men doe cast the dead bodies of those that were executed,

307

THEMIS.
TOCLES

Themistocles
banished for
five yere.

Pausanias
revealeth his
treason unto
Themistocles.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

and throwe the ragges and halters endes of those that were
hanged, or otherwise put to death by lawe. There was also
in our dayes in the temple of Diana Aristobule, a litle image
of Themistocles, which shewed plainely, that he was not only
wise, and of a noble minde, but also of a great majestie and
countenaunce in face. In the ende, the Athenians banished
him Athens for five yeres, bicause they would plucke downe
his overgreat corage and authoritie, as they dyd use to serve
those, whose greatnes they thought to be more, then common
equalitie that ought to be among cittizens would beare.
For this manner of banishment for a time, called Ostra-
cismo?i, was no punishment for any faulte committed, but a
mitigation and taking away of the envie of the people, which
delited to plucke downe their stomaks that to much seemed to
exceede in greatnes : and by this meanes they tooke awaye the
poyson of his malice, with diminishing his glorie and honour.
So Themistocles being banished Athens, went to dwell in
Argos. In this meane season, Pausanias trecchery fell out,
which gave his enemies occasion to lye heavie on his backe.
But he which became his accuser, and was partener of the
treason, was one called Leobotes (Alcmeons sonne) borne in
a village called Agraula. Besides this, the Spartans also
dyd sit on his skirtes, and charged him sorely. For Pau-
sanias never before revealed to Themistocles the treason he
had purposed, although he was his very familliar friende.
But after he sawe Themistocles was banished, and dyd take
his exile very unpaciently : then Pausanias was bolde to open
his treason to him, to procure him to take his parte, and
shewed him the letters the king of Persia had written to
him, and all to sturre him up against the Graecians, as
against ungratefuU and unnaturall people. Howbeit The-
mistocles shooke him of, and tolde him plainely he* would
be no partener of his treason. Notwithstanding, he never
revealed it to any living creature, nor discovered the prac-
tise he intended : hoping either he would have geven it over,
or that shortely it would appeare by some other meane,
considering he so fondly aspired to things of great daunger,
and without purpose or possibilitie. After Pausanias was
condemned, and had suffered paynes of death for the same :
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GRECIANS AND ROMANES

they found amongest his papers, certaine writings and letters, THEMIS-
which made Themistocles to be very sore suspected. Where- TOCLES
upon the Lacedaemonians on the one side cried out of him : and Themistocles
his enemies and ill willers at Athens accused him on th' other suspected of
side. To the which he made aunswer by letters from the '^®*^°'^-
beginning, and wrote unto the people, it was not likely that
he (who sought all the wayes to rule, and was not borne to
serve, neither had any minde thereto) would ever have
thought in his heade, to sell his owne libertie, and the
Graecians also unto the Barbarous people their enemies.
Notwithstanding this purgation of his, the people by the
procurement of his enemies, sent to apprehende him, and to
bring him before the states of all Graece, to be judged by
that counsaill. Whereof Themistocles having intelligence
in time, he dyd convey him selfe into the He of Corphu, Themistocles
bicause the citie there was greatly beholding to him, for a ^^^ ^^^^ ^'^^
certen pleasure in time paste he had done them. For they ^^ ^^^
being at sute and strife with the Corinthians, he tooke up the
matter betweene them, and gave judgement on their side,
and condemned the Corinthians to paye them twenty talents
damages : and did set downe an order, that they should
occupie the He of Leucade in common together, as ground
that had bene inhabited with the people, aswell of the one
cittie, as of the other. From thence he fled to Epirus,
whether being followed by the Athenians, and the Lacedae-
monians, he was compelled to venter him selfe upon a doubt-
full and very daungerous hope. For he went to yelde him
selfe into the hands of Admetus, king of the Molossians.
Who having heretofore made certen requestes unto the
Athenians, and being shamefully denied them by meanes
of Themistocles (who then was at his chiefest height and
authoritie) the King was marvelously offended with him :
and it was a clere case in deede, that if he could then have
layed handes on him, he would have bene revenged of him
throughly. Howbeit feeling the present miserie of his
exile, he thought he might lesse feare the Kings olde quar- '^® manner

rell and displeasure, then the freshe hate and envie of his ?• f^^ii ^^^'

__-, ' 1 • A 1 tion among

contriemen. Whereupon he went unto kmg Admetus, the Molos-

trusting to his mercie, and became an humble suter to him siaus.

309

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

THEMIS- in a straunge extraordinarie sorte. For he tooke the Kings
TOCLES litle young sonne in his armes, and went and kneeled downe
before the altar in his chappell : which humble manner of
suinge the Molossians take to be most effectuall, and such
as they dare not denie, nor refuse. Some saye that Queene
Phthia her selfe, the Kings wife, dy d enforme him of this their
country custome and manner, and brought her litle sonne
also neere unto the altar. Other write also, that it was
Admetus him selfe that taught and shewed him this inforc-
ing manner of petition, only for a cloke to excuse him selfe
to those that should come to demaunde Themistocles of him :
that by duetie of religion he was so straightly bounde and
restrained, that he might not deliver him out of his protec-
tion. In this meane time, Epicrates Acharnian founde the
meanes secretly to convey Themistocles wife and children out
of Athens, and dyd send them privelie unto him : whereupon
he was afterwards accused, and put to death, upon Cimons
accusation and motion, as Stesimbrotus writeth. Who not
remembring those matters I knowe not howe, or making as
though Themistocles had not remembred him selfe, doth saye,
that Themistocles sayled into Sicile, where he sought to
mary Hierons daughter, the tyranne of Syracusa : promising
him if he would let him have her, he would assure him to
conquer all Grece for him, and to bring them under his
obedience. But Hieron refusing this offer, Themistocles
went from thence into Asia : but that is not likely. For
Theophrastus Avriteth in his booke intituled of Kingdomes,
that Hieron having sent certain running horses to the feast
of games Olympicall, and having set up a marvelous riche
and sumptuous tent there : Themistocles made an oration
to the Grecians, declaring unto them how they should teare
the tyrannes tente in peces, and not to suffer his horses to
ronne with other swifte and light horses, and to cary away
the price in those holy games. Thucydides againe declareth,
howe he went unto the other sea, and imbarked in the cittie
of Pydne, being knowen of never a man in the shippe, untill
such time as the winde beganne to carie them into the He
of Naxos, which the Athenians by chaunce dyd besiege at
that time, where being afeard to be set on lande, he was
310

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

forced to bewraye him self to the master of the shippe, and THEMIS-

the masters mate, and wrought them, what with fayer TOCLES

wordes and what with threates (by saying he would accuse

them to the Athenians, that they dyd not ignorantly receive

him in, but hiered for money) so as he compelled them to

sayle on further, and to cary him into Asia. As for his

goodes, his friendes saved the most parte of them, and sent

them into Asia to him. But for those that came to light,

and were confiscate unto the state : Theopompus writeth,

they dyd amounte to the value of one hundred talents.

And Theophrastus sayeth, but to foure score talents only.

So that all his goodes was not worth three talents, when he

beganne to governe the state of the common weale. When

he came unto the cittie of Cuma, he perceyved that all the

coastes by sea were layed for him to apprehende him, and

that he had many spyalls upon him : among the which, these

were two special! noted men, Ergoteles, and one Pythodorus,

the reward being very great, for men that sought their gayne

any waye they could. For the king of Persia had proclaymed

by sound of trumpet, two hundred talents to him that

brought him Themistocles. Whereupon he fled unto a litle

towne of ^olia, called -^ges, where no living bodie knewe

him, but his host only, called Nicogenes : who was the richest

man of all the iEolians, and knewe all the noble men of

authoritie that were about the king of Persia. Themistocles

continued hidden certen dayes in his house : in which time,

on a night after the feast of a sacrifice, one Olbius, schoole-

master to Nicogenes children, by some secret working of

the goddes, sodainely fell besides him selfe, and beganne to

singe these verses out alowde :

Doe thou beleeve, what so the nig-ht the tells

and geve thy voyce, thy counsell and conceipts
Unto the night, in darcksomnes that dwells,

thereon also thy victorie awaits.

The next night following, Themistocles being fast asleepe Themistocles
in his bed, dreamed that a snake wounde it selfe round about dreame.
his bellie, and glided upwardes to his necke, untill it touched
his face, and sodainely then it became an eagle, and imbraced
him with his winges : and so at length dyd lift him up into

311

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

THEMIS-
TOCLES

The Persians
jealous of
their wives.

HoweThemis-
tocles was
conveyed to
the king of
Persias
courte.

the ayer, and caried him a marvelous waye of, mitill he
thought he sawe a golden rodde (suche as Herauldes use
to carie in their handes) whereupon the eagle dyd set him,
and so was delivered of all this feare and trouble he thought
him selfe in. The trothe was, Nicogenes had this devise
in his heade, howe he might bring him safe to the king of
Persiaes courte. The Barbarous nations for the most parte
(and specially the Persians) are of a very straunge nature,
and marvelous jealous over their women, and that not onely
of their wives, but also of their bonde women, and con-
cubines : which they keepe so straightly locked up, that no
man ever seeth them abroade at any time, but are allwayes
like housedoves kept within doores. And when they have
any occasion to goe into the country, they are caried in close
coches covered all about, that no man can looke into them.
Themistocles was conveyed into one of these coches drest
after this manner, and had warned his men to aunswer those
they met by the waye, that asked whom they caried : howe
it was a young Grecian gentlewoman of the countrie of
Ionia, which they caried to the courte for a noble man there.
Thucydides, and Charon Lampsacenian saye, he went thither
after the death of Xerxes, and spake with his sonne there.
But Ephorus, Dino, Clitarchus, Heraclides, and many other
write, that he spake with him selfe. Yet notwithstanding
it appeareth that Thucydides wordes doe best agree Avith
the chronicles and tables, recording the succession of times,
although they be of no great certaintie. Themistocles
being come nowe to the swordes pointe (as it were) and to
the extremitie of his daunger: dyd first present him selfe
unto one Artabanus, Colonell of a thousand footemen, and
sayed unto him : Syr, I am a Grecian borne, and desire to
speake with the King : I have matters of importance to open
to his majestic, and such as I knowe he will thanckefully
receyve. Artabanus aunswered him in this manner : My
friend syr straunger, the lawes and customes of men are
divers, and some take one thing for honest, others some
another thing : but it is most honesty for all men, to keepe
and observe the lawes and manners of their owne countrie.
For you Grecians have the name to love libertie, and equalitie
312

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

above all things : and for us, amongest all the goodly lawes THEMIS-
and customes we have, we esteeme this above the rest : to TOCLES
reverence and honour our King, as the image of the god of The Persians
nature, who keepeth all things in their perfect life and state, honour their
Wherefore, if thou wilt facion thy selfe after our manner to . ^^^^^r Ju.
honour the King, thou mayest both see him, and speake with g^^ of nature,
him : but if thou have another minde with thee, then must
thou of necessitie use some thirde persone for thy meane.
For this is the manner of our countrie : the King never
geveth audience to any man, that hath not first honoured
him. Themistocles hearing what he sayed, aunswered him
againe : My lord Artabanus, the great good will I beare
unto the King, and the desire I have to advaunce his glorie
and power, is the only cause of my present repaire unto his
courte : therefore I meane not only to obey your lawes (since
it hath so pleased the goddes to rayse up the noble empire
of Persia unto this greatnes) but will cause many other
people also to honour the King, more then there doe at this
present. Therefore let there be no staye, but that my selfe
in persone maye deliver to the King that I have to saye
unto him. Well, sayed Artabanus : whom then shall we saye
thou arte ? For by thy speache it seemeth, thou art a man
of no meane state and condition. Themistocles aunswered
him : As for that Artabanus, none shall knowe before the
King him selfe. Thus doth Phanias reporte it. But Era-
tosthenes, in his booke he wrote of riches, addeth further :
howe Themistocles had accesse unto this Artabanus, being
recommended to the King by a woman of Eretria, whom the
King kept. Themistocles being brought to his presence, Themistocles
after he had presented his humble duety and reverence to t^lke with the
him, stoode on his feete, and sayed never a worde, untill the ^"^got I'ersia.
King commaunded the interpreter to aske him what he was ?
and he aunswered : Maye it please your majestie, O noble
King : I am Themistocles the Athenian, a banished man out
of my country by the Grecians, who humbly repay reth to
your highnes, knowing I have done great hurt to the Per-
sians, but I persuade my self I have done them farre more
good then harme. For I it was that kept the Grecians
backe they dyd not follow you, when the state of Grece was
2R 313

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

THEMIS- delivered from thraldome, and my native country from
TOCLES daunger, and that I knew I stoode then in good state to
pleasure you. Nowe for me, I finde all mens good willes
agreable, to my present misery and calamitie : for I come
determined, most humbly to thancke your highnes, for any
grace and favour you shall shewe me, and also to crave
humble pardone, if your majesty be yet offended with me.
And therfore licence me (most noble King) to beseche you,
that taking mine enemies the Grecians for witnesses of the
pleasures I have done the Persian nation, you will of your
princely grace use my harde fortune, as a good occasion to
shewe your honorable vertue, rather then to satisfie the
passion of your heate and choller. For in saving my life,
your majestic saveth an humble suter that put him selfe to
your mercie : and in putting me to death, you shall ryd
away an enemy of the Grecians. Having spoken thus these
words, he sayed further : That the goddes, by divers signes
and tokens had procured him, to come to submit him selfe
unto him, and tolde the King what vision he had scene in
his dreame in Nicogenes house : and declared also the oracle of
lupiter Dodonian, who had commaunded him that he should
goe unto him that was called as a god, and howe he thought
it was the persone of his majestic, bicause that god and he
in trothe were called both great Kings. The King having
thus heard him speake, gave him then no present aunswer
againe, notwithstanding he marvelously wondred at his great
wisedome and boldenes. But afterwardes amongest his
familliars the King sayed, he thought him selfe very happy
to mete with the good fortune of Themistocles comming to
him : and so besought his great god Arimanius, that he
would allwayes send his enemies such mindes, as to banishe
the greatest, and wisest men amongest them. It is reported
also he did sacrifice unto the goddes, to geve them thankes
therefore, and disposed him selfe presently to be mery.
Insomuch as dreaming in the night, in the middest of his
dreame he cried out three times together for joye : I have
Themistocles the Athenian. The next morning the King
having sent for the chiefest lordes of his courte, he made
Themistocles also to be brought before him : who looked
314

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

for no goodnes at all, specially when he sawe the souldiers THEMIS-
warding at the courte gates, geve him ill countenaunce and TOCLES
language both, when they behelde him, and understoode his
name. Moreover, Roxanes, one of the captaines, as Themis-
tocles passed by him going to the King (who was set in his
chayer of state, and every man keeping silence) softely sigh-
ing, sayed unto him : O thou Greekishe serpent, subtill and
malicious : the Kings good fortune hath brought thee hether.
Nevertheles when he came to the King, and had once againe
made him a very humble and lowe reverence : the King
saluted him, and spake very curteously to him, saying : I am
nowe your detter of two hundred talents, for presenting
your self. It is good reason I should deliver you the money
promised him that should have brought you : but I geve
you a further warrante, be bolde I charge you, and speake
your minde freely, saye what you thinke of the state of
Grece. Themistocles then aunswered him : That mens An excellent
wordes did properly resemble the stories and imagery in a comparison of
pece of arras : for both in the one and in the other, the Themistocles.
goodly images of either of them are scene, when they are
unfolded and layed open. Contrariwise they appeare not,
but are lost, when they are shut up, and close folded : where-
upon he sayed to the King, he must nedes require some
further time of aunswer. The King liked his comparison
passingly well, and willed him to appointe his owne time.
Themistocles asked a yere : in which time having pretily
learned the Persian tongue, he afterwards spake to the King
him selfe without any interpreter. So, suche as were no
courtiers, thought he only talked with the King of matters
of |Grece. But bicause the chaunge and alteration of the
courte fell out great at that time, the noble men imagined
he had bene so bolde to comon with the King of them also.
Thereupon they greatly envied him, and afterwardes mur-
mured much against him. For in deede the king dyd honour Themistocles
Themistocles above all other straungers whatsoever they honoured of
were. On a time the king had him out a hunting; with him, n -^
he made him see his mother, with whom he grewe familliar :
and by the kings owne commaundement he was to heare
the disputations of the wise men of Persia touching secret

315

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

THEMIS- philosophie, which they call magike. Demaratus the Lacedae-
TOCLES monian being at that time in the courte of Persia, the king
willing him to aske what gifte he would, he besought the
Demaratus king to graunt him this favour : to licence him to goe up
fond demande and down the cittie of Sardis, with his royall hat on his
of the King, head, as the kings of Persia doe. Mithropaustes, the kings
cosin, taking him by the hand, sayed unto him : Demaratus,
the kings hatte thou demaundest, and if it were on thy
heade, it would cover but litle wit : Naye though lupiter
dyd geve thee his lightning in thy hande, yet that would
not make thee lupiter. But the king gave him so sharpe a
repulse for his unreasonable request, and was so angrie with
him for it, that it was thought he would never have forgeven
him : howbeit Themistocles was so earnest a suter for him,
that he brought him into favour againe. And the reporte
goeth, that the kings successours which have bene since that
time, under whom the Persians have had more dealings with
the Grecians, then in former dayes : when they would retaine
any great state or personage of Grece into their service, they
wrote unto him, and promised him they would make him
greater about them, then ever was Themistocles about Xerxes.
That which is written of him, doth also confirme it. For he
being stept up to great countenaunce and authoritie, and fol-
lowed with great traines of suters after him by reason of his
greatnes : seing him self one daye very honorably served at his
table, and with all sortes of daintie meates, he turned him
to his children, and sayed unto them : My sonnes, we should
have bene undone, if we had not bene undone. The most
Themistocles writers doe agree, that he had given him the revenue of 3
had the re- citties for his allowance of bread, wine and vittailes : to
venue of three ^j^^ Magnesia, Lampsacus, and Mjninta. But Neanthes
him for his Cyzicenian, and Phanias, doe adde two other citties more,
dyet. Percota, and Palescepsia : the one to defraye his charges of

apparell, and the other for his lodging. Afterwards Themis-
tocles going into the lowe countries towards the sea, to take
order against the practises of the Grecians : there was a
Persian lord called Epixies (governour of highe Phrygia)
that had layed a traine to kill him (having of long time
hiered certaine murderers of Pisidia to doe it) so soone as he
316

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

should come into a towne of his government, called the THEMIS-
Lyons head. But as he slept on a daye in his house in the TOCLES
after none, the mother of the goddes appeared unto him, Themistocles
and sayed : Themistocles, goe not to the Lyons heade, for ^'scaped mur-
feare thou mete with the Lyon : and for this warning, I doe • ^ t^^™"
aske thy daughter Mnesiptolema for my servante. Themis- his sleepe.
tocles waking sodainely out of his dreame, made his prayer
unto the goddesse, and turning out of the highe waye,
fetched another compasse about. Afterwardes having passed
that towne, he tooke his lodging being benighted : but one
of the beastes which caried his tente, fell by the waye,
unfortunatly in a river, and all his arras and tapestry hang-
ings being throughly wet, his ser vaunts were driven to laye
them out a drying by moone light. The Pisidians that laye
in wayte, and could not discerne by moone light that they
were hangings layed out to drye, thought it had bene the
very tente Themistocles selfe dyd lye in : whereupon they
went unto it with their swordes drawen in their handes,
hoping to have taken him sleeping. But when they were
come thither, and beganne to lifte up a pece of the hangings :
some of the people of Themistocles (which kept watche)
perceyving them, ranne upon them, and tooke them. So
Themistocles having escaped this daunger, wondred greately
at the favour of the goddesse which had appeared unto him.
In recompence whereof, when he was in the cittie of Magnesia,
he built a temple unto Dindymena, and made his daughter
Mnesiptolema prioresse of the same. As he passed by the
cittie of Sardis for his recreation, he went to visite the
temples, and offerings that had bene geven there. So he
sawe an image of a mayden in copper, in the temple of the
mother of the goddes, being two yeardes highe, which they
called the Hydropliora : as much to saye, as the water carier.
And it was a statue, which him selfe had heretofore dedicated,
and caused to be made, with the fines of those that had payed
forfeytures, for stealing or turning awaye the water course at
Athens, at suche time as he was master surveyer of the water
workes and conduites there. Wherfore, whether Themis-
tocles was sory to see this goodly image a prisoner in the
handes of the Barbarous people, or that he would showe

317

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

THEMIS- unto the Athenians the greatnes of his credit and authoritie
TOCLES through all the Kings dominions : he spake to the governour
of Lydia, and prayed him for his sake that he would send
this image againe to Athens. But this Barbarous governour
was very angry with his request, and tolde him he would
advertise the King thereof. Then Themistocles beganne to
be afeard, and was driven to seeke to the governours women
and concubines, whom he got for money to intreate him, and
so made fayre weather againe with the governour. But from
thenceforth, he tooke better garde of him selfe in all his
doings, greatly fearing the envy of the Barbarous people.
For he progressed not up and downe Asia, as Theopompus
writeth, but laye a long time in the cittie of Magnesia,
quietly enjoying the Kings gratious giftes bestowed on him :
where he was honoured and reverenced for one of the greatest
persones of Persia, whilest the King was els where occupied
in the afFayres of the highe provinces of Asia, and had no
leysure to thincke upon those of Grece. But when newes
was brought him, that ^Egypt was rebelled, by meanes of
the favour and assistance of the Athenians, and that the
Grecians gallyes dyd scowre the seas even unto the He of
Cyprus, and unto the coastes of Cilicia, and that Cimon had
all the sea in subjection : that made him then to bende all
his thoughts howe to resist the Grecians, that their greatnes
might not turne to his hurte. Then commissions went out
to leavy men, to assemble captaines, and to dispatche postes
unto Themistocles at Magnesia, with the Kings letters,
straightly charging him to have an eye to the Grecians
doings, and moreover that he should faithfully keepe his
Themistocles promise he had made to him. But he, to shewe that he
love to his neither maliced his cittizens, nor was moved with the desire
country. ^^ greatnes and authoritie he might have growen unto in

those warres, or els for that he thought the Kings expecta-
tion would prove to a greater matter, then he could ende or
wade through, considering Grece was full at that time of
famous captaines, and that Cimon amongest the rest had
marvelous good fortune, and that it should be a reproche
to him to stayne the glorie of so many noble actes, so
many triumphes, and so great victories as Cimon had done
318

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

and wonne : he tooke a wise resolution with him selfe, to THEMIS-
make suche an ende of his life, as the fame thereof deserved. TOCLES
For he made a solemne sacrifice unto the goddes, and The manner
feasted at the same all his friends. And, after he had ^^^y^^^^*'',
taken his leave of them all, he drancke buUes bloude, as ^^•^^^^ ^^''*^-
most men thincke (or as other saye) poyson, which dis-
patcheth a man in foure and twenty howers, and so ended
his dayes in the cittie of Magnesia, after he had lived three-
score and five yeres, and the most parte of them allwayes in
office, and great charge. It is Avritten, that the king of
Persia understanding the cause and manner of his deathe,
dyd more esteeme him afterwards, then he dyd before, and
that ever after he continued to use his friends and familliars
in very good sorte. For he left children behinde him, which
he had of Archippa (Lysanders daughter) of the towne of Themistocles
Alopecia : Archeptolis, Polyeuctus, and Cleophantus, of children,
whom Plato the philosopher maketh mention, saying that
he was a good man at armes, but otherwise that there was
no goodnes in him. His other sonnes that were elder, as
Neocles, dyed being bitten with a horse : and as for Diodes
another sonne, his grandfather Lysander dyd adopt him for
his Sonne. He had many daughters, of the which Mne-
siptolema (which he had by a seconde wife) was maried unto
her halfe brother Archeptolis, for they were not both of one
venter. An other called Italia, was maried unto one Pan-
thides of Chio. Sybaris, unto Nicomedes an Athenian.
And Nicomacha, unto Pharsicles, Themistocles nephue : unto
whom her brethern dyd mary her within the cittie of Mag-
nesia, after the death of their father. This Pharsicles dyd
bring up Asia, which was the youngest of all his daughters.
Furthermore, his sumptuous tumbe standeth yet in the Themistocles
market place of Magnesia. But that Andocides writeth of tumbe and
his bones, in a booke he made to his friendes, is not to be rehckes.
credited, which was : that the Athenians having founde the
ashes of his bones, dyd cast them up into the ayer, as a
devise to sturre up the noble men against the people. And
Phylarchus in his historic (much like unto the fayned
subtilties of a tragedie) bringeth in I can not tell what
Neocles, and Demopolis, for Themistocles sonnes, to move

319

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

THEMIS-
TOCLES

Honour done
to Themis-
tocles after
his death.

the readers with compassion,
but will judge it straight

Howbeit no man is so simple,
a very fayning and devise.
Diodorus the cosmographer also, in a booke he hath written
of tumbes and monuments sayeth, by conjecture, rather then
of any certen knowledge : that alongest the haven of Piroea,
coming towardes the head of Alcimus, there is a forelande in
forme of an elbowe, within the which when they have doubled
the pointe, the sea is allwayes calme, and there they finde a
great and long foundation or base, upon the which there is as
it were the forme of an altar, and that is (sayeth he) Themis-
tocles tumbe. And he supposeth that Plato the comicall
poet doth witnesse it in these verses :

Thy grave is set and plast, comodiously,

where passengers and marchants that come by
maye visite thee, and where it maye regarde,
all such as seeke that porte to be their warde.

Somtimes also, it maye rejoyce to see,
the bloudy fights, upon the sea that be.

And furthermore, those of Magnesia dyd institute certen

honours unto the issue of Themistocles, which continew yet

unto this daye. And in my time, another Themistocles

also of Athens dyd enjoy the same honours, with whom

I was familliarly conversante in the house of

Ammonius the philosopher.

THE ENDE OF THEMISTOCLES LIFE

THE LIFE OF FURIUS CAMILLUS

MONGEST many great matters which are
spoken of this Furius Camillus, this
seemeth most straunge and wonderful]
above the rest. That he having borne
the chiefest offices of charge in his
countrie, and having done many notable
and worthy deedes in the same : as one
that was chosen five times Dictator, and
had triumphed foure times, and had wonne him selfe the
320

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

name and title of the seconde founder of Rome, and yet FURIUS
never came to be Consul. But the only cause thereof was, CAMILLUS
that the common weale of Rome stoode then in such state Why Camil-
and sorte. The people were then at dissention with the lus never
Senate. They would chuse no more Consuls, but other S^f"™^ ^P
kynde of governours whom they called Tribuni militares :
these dyd all things with like power and authoritie as the
Consuls, yet were they nothing so odious unto the people, by The aiithori-
reason of the number that was of them. For it was some tie of a fewe,
hope to them that could ill beare the rule of the small ^^^^J^ *^^
number of nobilitie, that the government of the state being people,
put into sixe, and not into two officers hands, their rule
would be the easier, and tollerabler. Nowe Camillus being at
that time in his best credit and authoritie, and in the prime
and glorie of his doings, dyd not desire to be made Consul
without the goodwill of the people, although whilest he was
in authoritie, there were many times Consuls created. But
to all other offices and dignities, he was called, and chosen.
He behaved him selfe in such sorte, that when he was alone,
he made his authoritie comon to other : and when he had
companions and associates, the glorie of all redounded to him
self alone. The cause whereof, was his modestie on the one Camillus
side, for he commaunded ever without en vie : and his great wisedome and
wisedome and sufficiencie on the other side, for the which all "^"^®^*'^-
others willingly gave him place, and yelded to him. The
house of the Furians being at that time of no great fame, he
was the first that beganne to set him self forwards. For in
a great battell which was fought against the ^Eques and
Volsces, he being but a private man at armes under the
Dictator Posthuraius Tubertus, was the first that riding out
of the army, advaunced him selfe, and gave the charge.
And being ronne into the thighe at the time with a staffe Camillus
broken upon his thighe, he plucked the trunchen out, and hurte.
retired not for all that : but geving chardge againe upon the
stowtest of the enemies, he fought it out so valiantly to the
encoraging of other, that he was the chief cause they turned
their backes. Whereupon, to requite his service done at
that time (besides other honours they dyd him) they made
him Censor : an office at that time of great preheminence and
2S 321

FURIUS
CAMILLUS

Camillus acts
in his Censor
shippe.

The cittie
of Veies
besieged.

The siege
continued
seven yeres
together.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

dignitie. In his office of Censorshippe, he dyd two notable
acts. The one very honest : when he brought men that
were not maried, to marie the women whom the warres had
left widows, which were in number many. To this he got
them partly by persuasion, and partly by threatnings, to set
round fines upon their heads that refused. The other very
necessary : in that he brought the orphanes to be contribu-
tories, unto taxes, and subsidies, which before payed nothing.
The cause thereof was, the continuall warres, about the
which the common weale susteined great charges : but
specially about the siege of the citie of the Veians (which
some call Venetanians) that was a very sore burden to them
at that time. For it was the capitall cittie of all Thuscan,
the which for store of armour, and number of souldiers, was
nothing inferiour unto the cittie of Rome. For the Veians
being growen to stomake and corage in time, by reason
of their wealth and prosperitie, and for the sundry great
battells they had fought against the Romaines, that con-
tended with them for glory and empire : now it fell so out,
that they finding them selves weakened by many great over-
throwes, which they had receyved of the Romaines, they did
let fall their former peacokes bravery, and ambition, to byd
them battell any more in the fielde, Howbeit the inhabitants
of the cittie of Veies having raised the walles, and made
very great high rampers, beganne to fortifie them selves, and
made good provision for armour and munition, besides store
of corne, shotte, and other necessary things : they valliantly,
and without feare of any thing, defended the siege of the
Romaines, that continued long time, and was no lesse hard and
painefull unto them that did besiege, then it was unto those
that were besieged. For where the Romaines were wont
before time to keepe their houses in the winter season, and
the field only in the sommer time : that was the first time
they were compelled by the captaines and Tribuni militares,
to buylde fortes, and to intrenche their campe with a wall,
even in their enemies countrie, and to winter abroade as
they were wont to lye in the campe in sommer. Nowe this
siege had continued seven whole yeres together. The cap-
taines were burdened that they dyd not their dueties, nor
322

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

stoode manfully to their charge : whereupon in the cnde they FURIUS
were discharged, and other captaines placed in their roomes CAMILLUS
to followe the siege. Among those, Camillas was one, whom
then the seconde time they created Tribuntis militaris. Who Camillus
notwithstanding dyd nothing then in that siege, bicause it twise chosen
was his happe by lot, to make warres upon the Phalerians, l^^^^^^i^^^^^
and the Capenates. These people whilest the Romaines were
occupied other where, had invaded their countrie, and done
them great harme, during the time of their warre with the
Thuscans. But Camillus having overthrowen a great number
of them in the fielde, had the rest in chase, and drave them to
take their cittie, and dyd shut them up within their owne walles.
The chaunce that happened at the lake of Albanus, about The wouder-
the time the Thuscan warres were greatest, dyd marvelously full overflow-
amate the Romaines, being no lesse wounderfull, then the ^^^^^yg^ ^
most straunge and uncrediblest thing that could be tolde by
man. For they could not finde out the cause of it by
common reason, nor any naturall grounde : considering it
was in the later end of Autumne, and sommer was ended, and
that there had not bene much rayne, nor notable so%vthe
winds. And although there are many lakes, many brooks
and rivers, many springs, and other waters in Italic : yet
some of them dried up altogether, others ranne but faintely
by reason of the drought, and all the rivers then were (as
they are wont to be commonly in sommer) very lowe, and
there was scant any water. But the lake Albanus contrari-
wise, that Cometh from no other place, neither runneth any
whether out of him selfe, being environned all about with
hilles and mountaines, and where the earthe is good : beganne
to swell, and rise to every mans sight, without any cause at
all (but secret and hidden unto the goddes alone) and went
allwayes increasing alongest those hilles sides, untill suche
time as it came to be even with the height of the highest
mountaine, gathering upwardes still without any waves or
tempest of weather at all. This at the first, made poore
shepeheardes and heardemen, keeping their cattell there-
aboutes, marvelously affrayed. But at the lengthe when the
earthe and weight of one of the hilles (which kepte in the
lake as a walle, from running over the felde) beganne to

323

FURIUS
CAMILLUS

The crafte of
a Romaine.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

breake by reason of the waight, and great quantitie of water,
that ranne straight with a marvelous extreme force and
violence over all the arrable landes and groundes planted
with trees, and so tooke his course into the sea : the
Romaines then not alone, but the whole inhabitants of Italy
were wounderfully affrayed, and judged that it was some
signe and prognostication of some wounderfuU thing to
come. And there was no other newes currante in the
campe, which laye at siege of the cittie of Veies : insomuch
as the very brute of it flewe over the walles of the cittie,
unto them that were besieged. And as it happeneth very
ofte in long sieges, that those which lye in campe doe often-
times talke with them that are besieged : there was a
Romaine who fell acquainted, and commonly used to talke
familiarly with one of the cittie, who could tell of many olde
and straunge things done and happened, and was very
skillfull above any other in the cittie, in the arte of divina-
tion, or soothesaying. The Romaine then tolde him one
daye the violent breaking out of the lake Albanus, and per-
ceyving that the other after he had heard him, was as mery
as a pye at the matter, and that he gibed at their siege : he
tolde him further, that this wounderfuU chaunce was not
only happened unto the Romaines at that time, but that
they had bene acquainted with many other farre more
straunge then this, which he would very willingly open unto
him, to see if there were any remedy, that though the
affaires of the common weale had but harde successe, yet he
would procure that his owne private matters might prosper
well with him. The Veian aunswered him, he would heare
them with a goodwill, and gave good eare unto him, hoping
to have heard some great secret. So the Romaine training
him on still from one matter to another, holding on his
waye, untill he sawe he was a good distance of from the gates
of the cittie, he sodainely cought holde on him, and by
strong hand caried him awaye with him, and with helpe of
other souldiers which came ronning out of the campe unto
him, he brought him to the captaines. The Veian seeing
him self thus forciblie used, and knowing also that fatall
desteny cannot be avoyded, beganne to declare unto the
324'

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

Romaines, the auncient oracles and prophecies touching the FURIUS
fortune of their cittie : by which it was reported unto them, CAMILLUS
that the cittie of Veies should never be taken, untill the
enemie had caused the water of the lake Albanus (which
should breake out) to be brought backe againe, and to turne
it some other wave from thence, that it should not fall into
the sea. This was caried unto the Senate at Rome, to be
consulted of in counsail : and there it was determined they
should send to the oracle of Apollo, at the cittie of Delphes,
and aske him what they should doe therein. So thither
was sent great and notable men, Cossus Licinius, Valerius
Politus, and Fabius Ambustus : who having ended their
jomey by sea, and receyved aunswer of that they demaunded,
returned home againe, and amongest other oracles they
brought one that sayed thus : That through negligence An oracle
they had omitted some auncient ceremonies in the holy brought from
dayes of the Latines. And another willed them, that they I^^^P"^^-
should by all possible meanes they could, keepe the water of
the lake Albanus that it fell not into the sea, and should (if
it were possible) bring it backe againe into his old place : if
not, that yet they should cut as many trenches and ditches
as might be, that it might be droncke up in the middest of
the fields. When these oracles were understanded, the
priests prepared all things for divine service, and the people
went about the water of the lake to turne it againe. After
these things were done, the Senate in the tenth yere of the
warres against the Veians, put of all those which dyd beare
office, and created Caniillus Dictator, who named for generall Camilhis
of the horse men, Cornelius Scipio. And before he went in chosen
hande with any thing, he made a vowe unto the goddes, that I^^<^t^tor.
if it pleased them to graunte a happy ende of these warres,
in honour of them he would celebrate great playes, and buyld
a temple unto the goddesse which the Romaines call Matuta: Matuta.
which seemeth to be her whom we call Leucothea, considering Leucothea.
the ceremonies done in these sacrifices. For they cause a
chamber mayde to enter into her temple, and there they
boxe her about the eares. Then they put her out of the
temple, and doe embrace their brothers children rather then
their owne. They make many other ceremonies, and they

325

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

FURIUS
CAMILLUS

The cittie of
Veies taken
by mining'.

CamUlus
prayer when
Veies was
taken.

are much like unto those that are done unto Bacchus
nurces, and to the misfortunes that chaunced unto Ino, by
reason of her husbands concubine. After all these vowes and
prayers made, he entred with his army into the Falissians
territories, whom he overthrewe in a great battell, together
with the Capenates also, which came to ayde them. From
thence he went to the siege of the cittie of the Veies,
where perceyving to take it by assaulte, was not to be
wonne without great daunger : he beganne to undermine
it (finding the earth all about very minable) and with all
so deepe, that the enemies could perceyve nothing. Nowe
when his mining fell out according to his good hope, he
gave an assaulte to the walles in all places alike about the
cittie at one instante, to bring out all the inhabitants of
the cittie to man the walles. Whilest they were all thus
upon the walles to make defence : Camillus souldiers entred
secretly through the mines within the castell, harde by
the temple of luno : which was the chiefe Churche of all
the cittie, and whereunto the cittizens had most devotion.
They saye that even at that present time the generall of the
Thuscans dyd sacrifice unto the goddes, and that his soothe-
sayer having considered the intrells of the beastes offered up
in sacrifice, cried out alowde, that the goddes gave the
victorie unto him, which should happen to come upon them
in this sacrifice. The Romaines which were within the mine
hearing this, brake the earth incontinently, and leaped out,
crying, and making noyse with their weapons : wherewith
the enemies were so astonied, that they fled upon it, and so
the Romaines tooke the intrells, and caried them unto
Camillus. And these be even much like the Poets tales and
fables. Howbeit Camillus having by this meanes taken the
cittie, and seeing from the toppe of the castell the infinite
goodes and riches within the cittie, which the souldiers
spoyled and made havoke of, he wept for very pittie. And
when those that were about him tolde him he was a happy
man : he lift up his handes unto heaven, and made this
prayer : O mightie god lupiter, and you O goddes, which
see and judge mens good and ill worckes : you knowe right
well, that we have not willingly (without wrong and cause
326

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

offered us) begonne this warre, but justly, and by compulsion, FURIUS
to be revenged of a cittie our enemie, which hath done us CAMILLUS
great injuries. But if to contervayle this our great good
prosperitie, and victorie, some bitter adversitie and over-
throwe be predestined unto us : I beseeche you then (most
mercifull goddes) in sparing our cittie of Rome, and this her
army, you will (with as litle hurte as maye be) let it all fall
and light upon my persone alone. And as he had spoken
these wordes, and was turning on his right hande (according
to the manner of the Romaines after they have prayed unto
the goddes) he fell downe flat before them all. The standers
by taking this fall for an ill token, were somwhat troubled
with the matter : but after he got up on his feete againe,
he tolde them that the thing he requested of the goddes
was happened unto him. And that was, a litle hurte, in
exchaunge of a great good fortune. So the whole cittie
being spoyled and rifled, he was also desirous to carie lunos
image to Rome, to accomplishe the vowe he had made.
And having sent for worckemen for this purpose, he dyd
sacrifice first unto the goddesse, beseching her to accept
well of the Romaines good will, and that she would willingly
vowchesafe to come and dwell with the other goddes, who
had the protection of the cittie of Rome. Some saye, that
the image aunswered, she was contented. But Livius writeth
that Camillus made this prayer, as he touched the image,
and that the assistants aunswered she was contented, and
would goe with a goodwill. Yet they which doe affirme, it
was the image selfe that spake, doe favour this miracle,
grounding their proofe upon the opinion of the fortune of
Rome : the which, from so base and meane beginning had
impossibly attained unto so highe glorie and power as it had,
without the singular favour of the goddes, and that hath
manifestly appeared unto the world, by sundry great proofes
and examples. They bring forth also such other like won- Fayned
ders. As, that images have heretofore let fall droppes of wonders of
swet from them : that they have bene heard to sighe : that i'"^^*^-
they have turned : and that they have made certen signes
with their eyes, as we finde written in many auncient stories.
And we could our selves also tell such like wonders, which

327

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

FURIUS
CAMILLUS

Plutarches
judgement of
miracles.

Camillus
stately
triumphs of
the Veians.

A lawe for
the people of
Rome to dwell
at Veies.

we have heard men of our time affirme, which are not un-
credible, nor lightly to be condemned. But for such matters,
it is as daungerous to geve to much credit to them, as also
to discredit them to much, by reason of the weaknes of mans
nature, which hath no certen boundes, nor can rule it self,
but ronneth somtimes after vanitie and superstition, and
otherwhile also dispiseth and contemneth holy and divine
matters : and therefore the meane is the vertue, and not to
goe to farre in this, as in all other things besides, it is the
best. No we Camillus, whether his late enterprise performed,
in winning a cittie that stoode out with Rome, and helde
siege with them tenne yeres together, had put him into an
overwening or conceipt of him selfe : or that the wordes of
the people, which dyd blesse and prayse him, had made him
looke highe, and presume upon him selfe, more then became
the modestie of a civill magistrate, and governour of the
common weale, and one that was subject to the lawe : he
shewed a stately triumphe, set forth with all riche furniture,
and specially for that him self was caried through Rome
upon his triumphant charret drawen with foure fayer white
coursers. This, never captaine nor generall before him durst
undertake to doe, neither any ever after him attempted it :
for they thinke it is a sacred cariage, and only mete for the
King, and father of the goddes. This bred him much envy
amongest the cittizens, which had not bene acquainted with
so great statelynes. There was another occasion also that
made them mislike him much : which was, bicause he stood
against the lawe put forth that they should devide the cittie
of Rome. For the Tribunes of the people dyd set out an
Edict, that the Senate and people of Rome should be devided
into two partes : and that those on whom the lotte should
fall, should abide still in Rome, and the other should goe
dwell in the newe wonne cittie of Veies. These were the
reasons to persuade this : that both the one and the other
sorte should be richer then they were before, and should
more easely keepe their lands and goodes from the invasion
of their enemies, by meanes of these two great citties. The
people which were multiplied nowe into great numbers, and
had served duetifuUy and daungerously, thought it the best
328

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

waye in the worlde : Therefore they still cried out, and FURIUS
thronged with great tumulte, about their pulpit for orations, CAMILLUS
praying that this lawe might be put unto the voyces of the
people. But the whole Senate, and wisest cittizens among
them, judging this motion of the Tribunes would be the
destruction, and not the division of the cittie of Rome :
could in no wise abide it should goe any further. Where-
upon they went and prayed Camillus helpe : who fearing to
bring it to the pointe, whether the lawe should passe or no,
dyd allwayes seeke new occasions and letts, still to delaye
and put of the matter, and staye the confirmation of this
lawe. For these causes, he was hated of the common people.
But the originall and apparant cause of the peoples ill will The chiefest
towards him, was for taking from them the tenth parte of cause of the
their spoyles : and it was not altogether without some P^^,? ^^ . .
reason, and to saye truely the people dyd him much wrong Camillus.
to beare him such malice for that. For before he went to
the cittie of Veies, he made a solemne vowe to offer the tenth
parte unto the goddes, of the spoyles of the cittie, if he
wanne the same. But when it was taken and sacked, whether
it was that he was lothe to trouble the cittizens, or having a
worlde of busines in his head, that he easely forgate his vowe :
he suffered the souldiers to devide the spoyle amongest them,
and to take the benefit to them selves. Shortely after he
was discharged of his charge, he dyd enforme the Senate of
his vowe. Furthermore, the soothesayers made reporte at
that very time, howe they knewe by certaine signes and
tokens of their sacrifices, that the goddes were offended for
somwhat, and howe they must of necessitie be pacified againe.
Whereupon the Senate presently made an order, where it
was unpossible every man should bring in againe the selfe
same things he had gotten, to make a newc division of every
mans share : that every one therefore upon his othe should
present the tenthe parte of his gaynes he had gotten by that
bootie. There was great trouble about it. They were
driven to use great extremitie to the poore souldiers (which
had traveled sore, and taken great paynes in the warres) to
make them to restore backe such a coloppe out of their gainc,
and the rather bicausc many of them had already spent it
2T 329

FURIUS
CAMILLUS

A cuppe of
golde sent to
Delphes.

The ladyes of
Rome gave
their juells
towards the
making of it.

What time
womens
prayses be-
ganne at
funeralls in
Rome.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

every penney : and for this trouble, they all cried out with

open mouth against Camillus. But he being set up, and not

knowing otherwise howe to excuse him selfe, was forced to

bring forth as cold and as unreasonable an excuse as he

could make, which was : forsoothe he had forgotten his vowe

he had made. The people notwithstanding were eger still

against him, saying : howe he had vowed then to offer the

tenth parte of the enemies goodes to the goddes, and that

nowe he would performe it with the tenthes of the cittizens

goodes. Nevertheles, every man having brought that he

should for his parte : it was thought good they should cause

a massie cuppe of golde to be made, to send to the temple of

Apollo at Delphes. And small store of golde being in the

cittie of Rome, as the officers of the cittie were serching up

and downe to get it : the women of Rome of their owne

voluntary willes without motion, agreed among them selves,

that they would departe with all the juells they had, towardes

the making up of this offering, which came to the weight of

eight talents. In recompence whereof, to honour them withall :

the Senate ordeined that they should be praysed openly with

funerall orations at their buriall, as they dyd use at honorable

and noble mens obsequies. For before that lawe, it was not

the manner to prayse women openly at their funeralles.

Nowe there were appointed three of the noblest men of the

cittie to goe to carie this offering, and they sent them out in

a galley well manned, stored also with good mariners, and

trimly set forth in all triumphing manner : howbeit both in

storme, and calme weather, they were in daunger of their

lives. For after that they had scaped drowning very

narrowly by tempest, when the winde was downe againe,

they fell into another daunger, which they escaped also

beyond all hope. For harde by the lies of JEolus, the

gallyes of the Liparians fell upon them, as if they had bene

rovers. But when the Liparians sawe they made no resistance,

and intreated them, holding up their hands : they gave no

further charge upon them, but only fastened their gallye

unto theirs. So when they had haled them to the shore,

they declared they were pirates, and offered to make porte

sale of the men and goodes, as if they had bene a lawfuU

330

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

prise : and had solde them in deede, had not the wisedome FURIUS
and authoritie of Timesitheus letted them, who was governour CAMILLUS
at that time of the cittie, and had great a doe to persuade
them to let them goe. And he dyd not so leave them, but
sent out certaine of his owne shippes to accompanie them in
their jorney, who dyd helpe them to goe and performe their
offering. For which curtesie of his, the Romaines afterwardes
dyd him great honour at Rome, according to his well deserv-
ing. The Tribunes of the people beganne nowe to set a
foote againe the lawe for the deviding of the inhabitans of
Rome unto the cittie of Veies. But the warres of the
Falisces fell out happely at that time, wherby the noble men
dyd choose such officers as they would. So they chose Camillus
Camillus, Tribimus militaris of the souldiers, and five other £^?^^"
to assiste him, the service in that case requiring a generall, ^^^ souldiers
that caried both authoritie and reputation among them, as
an olde experienced souldier in the warres. When the
people had confirmed the election, Camillus immediatly
entred the territories of the Falisces with the Romaines
armie, where he layed siege unto the cittie of the Falerians, Camillus be-
being very well fortified, vitteled and stored, with all other siegeth the
munition of warre. Knowing therefore that it was no small ^'a^^e^ai^s-
attempt to winne this cittie, and that it would not be done
in a shorte time : he pollitikely sought (whatsoever came of
it) to keepe his countrimen occupied about some thing, and
to staye them for going home, least by repayring to Rome,
they should have many occasions to rebell, and raise some
civill dissention. For the Romaines dyd wisely use this
remedie : to disperse abroade like good phisicians, the
humours which troubled the quiet state of their common
weale at home. But the Falerians trusting in the situation
of their cittie, which was very strong in all partes, made so
litle accompt of the siege : that those which kept not watche
upon the walles, walked up and downe in their gownes in
the cittie, without any weapon about them, and their
children went to schoole, the schoolemaster also would com-
monly leade them abroade out of the cittie a walking, to
playe and passe the time by the towne walles. For the
whole cittie had one common schoolemaster, as the Grecians

331

FURIUS
CAMILLUS

Camillus
worthie acte
totheschoole-
masterj be-
traying the
Falerians
children.

A noble saying
of Camillus,
and wise pre-
cept for
warres.

Valiantnes to
be preferred
before vUanie.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

also have, which doe bring up their children from litle ones in
company together, bicause one maye be familiarly acquainted
with an other. This schoolemaster spying his time to doe
the Falerians a shrewd turne, dyd accustomably take all his
scholers out of the cittie with him, to playe, not farre from
the walles at the beginning, and afterwards brought them
into the cittie againe, after they had played their fill. Now
after he had led them abroade thus once or twise, he trayned
them out every daye a litle further, to make them to be
bolde, persuading them there was no daunger. But at the
length, one daye having gotten all the cittizens children
with him, he led them within the watche of the Romaines
campe, and there delivered all his scholers into their handes,
and prayed them they would bring him unto their generall.
So they did. And when he came before Camillus, he be-
ganne to tell him that he was schoolemaster unto all these
children, nevertheles that he dyd more esteeme to have his
grace and favour, then regarde his office he had by this name
and title. Camillus hearing what he sayed, and. beholding
his threacherous parte, he sayed to those that were about him :
Warre of it selfe surely is an evill thing, for in warres many
injuries and mischieves are done: nevertheles among good
men there is a law and discipline, which doth forbid them to
seeke victorie by wicked and traiterous meanes, and that a
noble and worthie generall should make warre, and procure
victorie, by trusting to his own valliantnes, and not by
anothers vilenes and villanie. Therefore he commaunded his
sergeants to teare the clothes of the backe of this vile schoole-
master, and to binde his hands behinde him : and that they
should geve the children roddes and whippes in their handes,
to whippe the traitour backe againe into the cittie, that had
thus betrayed them, and grieved their parents. Now when
the Falerians heard newes that the schoolemaster had thus
betrayed them, all the cittie fell a weeping (as every man
maye thinke for so great a losse) and men and women ranne
together one in anothers necke, to the town walles, and
gates of the cittie, like people out of their wittes, they were
so troubled. When they came thither, they saw their
children bringing their schoolemaster backe againe, starcke
332

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

naked and bownde, whipping of him, and calling Camillas FURIUS
their father, their god, and their saviour : so that not only CAMILLUS
the fathers and mothers of the children, but all other the
cittizens also in generall, dyd conceyve in them selves a
wonderfuU admiration and great love, of the wisedome,
goodnes, and justice of Camillus. So that even presently
they called a counsaill, and there it was concluded they TheFaliscians
should send ambassadours forthwith unto him, to put their by their am-
lives and goodes to his mercy and favour. Camillus sent ^^ssadours
their ambassadours unto Rome, where audience being geven them selves
unto them by the Senate, the ambassadours sayed : Bicause and goodes
the Romaines preferred justice above victorie, they taught unto Camil-
them to be better contented to submit them selves unto ^'^^•
them, then to be their own men at libertie : confessing their The message
vertue dyd more overcome them, then any force or power of the ambas-
could doe. The Senate dispatched letters unto Camillus, FalSns*^^
giving him commission to doe and determine as he thought mj^o the
good. So he having taken a certen summe of money of the Romaines.
Falerians, dyd furthermore make peace and league with all Camillus
the rest of the Falisces : and thereupon returned backe tookeasumme
againe to Rome. But the souldiers grudged marvelously at ^^ money of
it. For they stoode in hope to have had the sacking of the 31,^ mide^"^'
cittie. When there was no remedie, but they must needes peace with all
returne home emptie handed, they beganne to accuse Camillus the rest of the
to the rest of the cittizens, as sone as they came to Rome, Falisces.
saying : he loved not the common people, and howe for spite
he disapointed their army of the spoyle. On the other
side, the Tribunes of the people beganne to revive the lawe,
for the deviding of the inhabitants of Rome, and were ready
to passe it by the voyces of the people. Camillus not fearing
the ill will of the commons, dyd boldely speake, and doe in
open presence, all he could against it. So that plainely he
was the chiefest cause, that the people against their willes
(intreate what they could) were driven to let it alone. But
withall they were so spitefull against him, that notwithstand-
ing his sorowe and misfortune for the death of his sonne
(dying of a sickenes) was great : they would not of malice
once take pittie or compassion of him. The losse whereof
(albeit he was of a very good and curteous nature) was so

333

FURIUS
CAMILLUS

Lucius Apu-
leius accused
Camillus.

The equitie of
the Romaiues
who would
not pervert
the lawe
though they
dearely loved
Camillus: but
willingly
oflFeredtopaye
his fine.

Camillus
prayer before
his departure
out of Rome.

Camillus exil-
eth him selfe
from Rome.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

grievous, and made him so unquiet : that being accused
before the people, he sturred not once out of his house, but
was locked up with the women, which lamented for his
Sonne departed. He that dyd accuse him, was one Lucius
Apuleius, burdening him that he had stolen and taken awaye,
parte of the spoyle of the Thuscans : and sayed, they had
seene certen brasen gates at his house, which had bene
brought out of Thuscan. Nowe the people were so mali-
ciously bent against him, that every man might see, if they
could once take him in a trippe, upon any advantage what-
soever, they would douteles have condemned him. Where-
fore calling together his friendes and souldiers .that had
served under him in the warres, or that had taken charge
with him, which were many in number : he earnestly besought
them, that they would not suffer him thus vilely to be con-
demned, through false and unjust accusations layed against
him, nor to be so scorned and defamed by his enemies. His
friends having layed their heades together, and consulted
thereupon, made him aunswer: howe for his judgment they
could not remedy it, but if he were condemned, they would
all joyne together with a very goodwill, to helpe to paye his
fine. But he being of minde not to beare such an open
shame and ignominie, determined in choller to leave the
cittie, and to exile him selfe from it. And after he had
taken his leave of his wife and children, bidding them fare-
well : he went out of his house to the gates of the cittie, and
sayed never a word. When he came thither, he stayed
sodainely, and returning backe againe, he lift up his hands
towards the CapitoU, and made his prayers unto the godds :
that if it were of very spight and malice, and not of just
deserving, that the common people compelled him thus
shamefully to forsake the cittie, that the Romaines might
quickely repente them, and in the face of the worlde might
wishe for him, and have nede of him. After he had made
these prayers against the cittizens (as Achilles dyd against
the Grecians) he went his way, and was condemned for his
contempte, m the summe of fifteene thousand Asses of the
Romaine coyne, which make of Greekishe money, a thousand
five hundred Drachmas of silver : for an As was a litle pece
334

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

of money, wherof tenne of them made a Romaine penney. FURIUS
Howbeit there was not a Romaine of any understanding, but CAMILLUS
beleeved certenly that some great punishment would followe
them incontinently, and that the wrong and injurie they had
done him would be quickely requited, with some most sharpe
and terrible revenge, not only unpleasaunt to thinke upon,
but further most notable to be spoken of through the world.
There fell out so sodainely upon it, such mischief toward the
cittie of Rome, and the present time also brought forth such
occasion of daunger and destruction thereof, to their shame
and infamie : that it was uncertaine whether it happened by
chaunce, or els it was the handie worcke of some god, that
would not suffer vertue recompenced with ingratitude, to
passe unrevenged. Their first token that threatned some Tokens of the
great mischief to light upon them, was the death of lulius, ^firres of the
one of the Censors : for the Romaines doe greately reverence ^^ ^^'
the office of a Censor, and esteeme it as a sacred place. The
seconde token that happened a litle before Camillus exile,
was : that one Marcus Caeditius, a man but of meane qualitie,
and none of the Senatours (but otherwise a fayer conditioned
honest man, and of good conscience) tolde the Tribuni
milttares of a thing that was to be well considered of. For
he sayed that the night before, as he was going on his waye
in the newe streete, he heard one call him alowde : and
returning backe to see what it was, he sawe no living
creature, but only heard a voyce bigger then a mans, which
sayed unto him : Marcus Caeditius, goe thy waye to morrowe
morning to the Tribuni militareSy and byd them looke
quickely for the Gaules. The Tribunes were mery at the
matter, and made but a jeast at his warning, and straight
after followed the condemnation of Camillus. Nowe as
touching the Gaules. They came (as they saye) of the The originall
Celtae, whose country not being able to mainteine the heginning of
multitudes of them, they were driven to goe seeke other ^ '^auies.
countryes to inhabite in : and there were amongest them
many thousands of young men of service and good souldiers,
but yet more women and litle children by a great number.
Of these people, some of them went towards the north sea,
passing the mountaines Riphei, and dyd dwell in the extreme

335

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

FURIUS
CAMILLUS

Arron a
Thuscan the
procurer of
the Gaules
comming into
Italic.

Lacke of
justice, the
cause of the
destruction
and conquest
of Thuscan by
the Gaules.

The power of
the Thuscans
in olde time.

partes of Europe. Other of them remained betwene the
mountaines Pirenei, and the greatest mountaines of the
Alpes, neere unto the Senones, and the Celtorii. There
they continued a long time, untill they fortuned in the ende
to taste of the wine, which was first brought out of Italic
unto them. Which drinke they found so good, and were so
delited with it, that sodainely they armed themselves : and
taking their wives and children with them, they went directly
towards the Alpes, to goe seeke out the country that brought
forth such fruite, judging all other countries in respect of
that, to be but wilde and barren. It is sayed, that the first
man which brought wine unto them, and that dyd procure
them to passe into Italic, was a noble man of Thuscan called
Arron, and otherwise of no ill disposed nature : howbeit he
was subject to this misfortune following. He was tutor unto
an orphan childe, the richest that was at that time in all
the countrie of Thuscan, and of complexion was wonderfull
fayer : he was called Lucumo. This orphan was brought up
in Arrons house of a childe, and though he was growen to
mans state, yet he would not goe from him, fayning he was
so well, and to his liking. But in deede the cause was, that
he loved his maistres (Arrons wife) whom secretly he had
enjoyed a long time, and she him, that made him like his
continuance there. Howbeit in the ende, love having so
possessed them both, that neither parte could withdrawe
from other, much lesse culler that they had long enjoyed :
the young man stole her away from him, and kept her still
by force. Arron put him in sute, but he prevayled not : for
Lucumo overweyed him with friends, money, giftes, and
charges. But he tooke it so grevously, that he left his
country : and having heard talke of the Gaules, he went
unto them, and was their guide to bring them into Italic.
So they conquered at their first coming all that country
which the Thuscans helde in olde time, beginning at the
foote of the mountaines, and stretched out in length from
one sea unto the other which environneth Italic, as the names
them selves doe witnesse. For they call yet that sea which
looketh unto the northe, the Adriatick sea : by reason of a
cittie built sometime by the Thuscans, which was called
336

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

Adria. The other, which lieth directly over against the FURIUS
South, is called the Thuscan sea. All that countrie is well CAMILLUS
planted with trees, and hath goodly pleasaunt pastures for
beastes and cattell to feede in, and is notably watered with
goodly ronning rivers. There was also at that time eighteene
fayer great citties in that country, all of them very strong
and well seated, aswell for to enriche the inhabitants thereof
by traffike, as to make them to live delicately for pleasure.
All these citties the Gaules had wonne, and had expulsed
the Thuscans, but this was done long time before. Now the
Gaules being further entred into Thuscan, dyd besiege the
cittie of Clusium. Thereupon the Clusians seeking ayde of Clusium a
the Romaines, besought them they would send letters and cittieofThus-
ambassadours unto these barbarous people in their favour. ^vtheGaules
They sent unto them three of the best and most honorable *
persones of the cittie, all three of the house of the Fabians.
The Gaules receyved them very curteously, bicause of the
name of Rome : and leaving to assaulte the cittie, they gave
them audience. The Romaine ambassadours dyd aske them,
what injurie the Clusians had done unto them, that they
came to make warres with them. Brennus king of the Brennus king
Gaules, hearing this question, smiled, and aunswered them of the Gaules.
thus : The Clusians doe us wrong in this : they being but
fewe people together, and not able to occupie much lande,
doe notwithstanding possesse much, and will let us have no
parte with them, that are straungers, and out of our country,
and stande in neede of seate and habitation. The like
wrong was offered unto you Romaines in old time, by those
of Alba, by the Fidenates, and the Ardeates : and not long
sithence, by the Veians, and the Capenates : and partly by
the Falisces and the Volsces : against whom ye have taken,
and doe take armes, at all times. And as ofte as they will
let ye have no parte of their goods, ye imprison their
persones, robbe and spoyle their goodes, and distroye their
citties. And in doing this, ye doe them no wrong at all,
but followe the oldest lawe that is in the worlde, which ever
leaveth unto the stronger, that which the weaker can not
keepe and enjoye. Beginning with the goddes, and ending
with beastes : the which have this propertie in nature, that
2U 337

FURIUS
CAMILLUS

Fabius
Ambustus
a Romaine,
breaketh the
common lawe
of all nations.

Brennus
reproveth
Fabius for
breaking the
lawe of arm es.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

the bigger and stronger have ever the vauntage of the
weaker and lesser. Therefore, leave your pittie to see the
Clusians besieged, least you teache us Gaules to take com-
passion also of those you have oppressed. By this aunswer
the Romaines knewe very wel, there was no waye to make
peace with king Brennus. Wherefore they entred into the
cittie of Clusium, and incoraged the inhabitants to salye out
with them upon these barbarous people : either bicause they
had a desire to prove the valliantnes of the Gaules, or els
to shewe their owne corage and manhoode. So the cittizens
went out, and skirmished with them harde by the walles :
in the which one of the Fabians, called Quintus Fabius
Ambustus, being excellently well horsed, and putting spurres
to him, dyd set upon a goodly bigge personage of the Gaules,
that had advaunced him selfe farre before all the troupe of
his companions. He was not knowen at the first encounter,
as well for the sodaine meeting and skirmishing together, as
for that his glistering armour dimmed the eyes of the
enemies. But after he had slaine the Gaule, and came to
strippe him : Brennus then knewe him, and protested against
him, calling the goddes to witnesse, howe he had broken the
lawe of armes, that coming as an ambassadour, he had taken
upon him the forme of an enemie. Hereupon Brennus forth-
with left skirmishing, and raising the seige from Clusium,
marched with his army unto Rome gates. And to the ende
the Romaines might knowe, that the Gaules were not well
pleased for the injurie they had receyved : to have an honest
culler to beginne warres with the Romaines, he sent an
Herauld before to Rome, to demaunde liverie of the man
that had offended him, that he might punish him accordingly.
In the meane time, he him selfe came marching after, by
small journeys to receyve their aunswer. The Senate here-
upon assembled, and many of the Senatours blamed the
rashnes of the Fabians : but most of all, the priestes called
Faeciales. For they followed it very earnestly, as a matter
that concerned religion, and the honour of the godds :
declaring how the Senate, in discharge of all the residue of
the cittie of the offence committed, should laye the whole
waight and burden of it upon him alone, that only had done
338

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

the facte. Numa Pompilius, the justest and most peaceable FURIUS
of all the kings of Rome that had bene, was he that first CAMILLUS
erected the colledge of these Faeciales, and dyd ordeine that Numa Pom-
they should be the keepers of peace, and the judges to heare pilius erected
and alio we all the causes, for the which they should justely of^h^p^c^a
beginne any warres, Nevertheles, the Senate in the ende igg.
turned over the ordering of the matter, unto the whole will
and judgment of the people, before whom these priestes
Faeciales dyd also accuse Fabius Ambustus. The people made
so litle accompt of their propounded religion, and honour of
the godds in that case : that in stede of delivering of this
Fabius unto the enemy, they dyd choose him for one of the
Tribunes of the souldiers with his brothers. The Gaules
understanding this, were so furious and angrie thereat, that
they would no lenger linger their journeis, but marched with The Gaules
all spede unto Rome. The people that dwelt by the high marche to-
wayes where they should passe by, were marvelously affrayed ^^^
to see the multitude of them, and their brave and universall
furniture : and beginning to doubt the furie of their rage,
they imagined first of all that they would destroye all the
champion country before them, and afterwardes would take
all the strong citties. They contrariwise dyd take nothing
at all out of the fieldes, neither dyd any hurte or displeasure
unto any bodie : but passing by their citties, cried out they
went to Rome, and would have no warres but with the
Romaines, and howe otherwise they desired to be friendes
with all the worlde. These barbarous people marching on
in this wise towards Rome, the Tribunes of the souldiers
brought their army to the field to encounter them. They
were no lesse in number then the Gaules, for they were
fourty thousand footemen. Howbeit most part of them were TheRomaiues
rawe souldiers, that had never served in the warres before, am^ie were
They were very careles of the goddes, and dissolute in °^ ®"

matters of religion : for they passed neither for good signes
in their sacrifices, neither to aske counsaill of their soothe-
sayers, which the Romaines were religiously wont to doe,
before they gave any battaill. To make the matter worse :
the number of the captaines having power and authoritie
alike, dyd asmuche (or more then the rest) disorder and

339

FURIUS
CAMILLUS

To many
rulers of an
armie, doe
confound all
order, and
putteth the
armyin perill.

Alliafl.

The battell at
the river of
Allia where
the Gaules
wanne the
field of the
Romaines.

300 of a name
slaine in one
daye.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

confounde their doings. For ofte times before, in farre
lesser matters and daungers then these, they dyd use to
chuse speciall officers that had sole and soveraine authoritie,
which they called Dictators : knowing very well of how great
importance it is, in daungerous times to have but one head
and generall, to commaund all, and to have supreme authori-
tie of justice in his hands, and not to be bound to deliver
accompt of his doings to any. The injury also which they
had to ungratefully done to Camillus, brought great mischief
and inconvenience then upon them. For the captaines after
him, durst no more commaunde the people roughly, but ever
after dyd flatter them much. When their army was nowe
brought into the field, they encamped them selves by a litle
river called Allia, about the eleventh stone from Rome, and
not farre from the place where the same river falleth into
Tyber. Thither came the barbarous army to them, who
overthrew them in battell, by their disorder and lacke of
government. For the left pointe or winge of their battell
was broken of at the first by the Gaules, who charged them
so furiously, that they drave them hedlong into the river.
The right wing then retiring out of the plain, before they
had any charge geven, and having gotten certen hilles hard
by them : they had litle hurte, and most of them saving
them selves, did recover Rome again. The rest that escaped
after the enemies were weary of killing, fled by night unto
the cittie of Veies, thinking Rome had bene lost, and all the
cittie put to the sword. This overthrowe was on the longest
daye in sommer, the moone being at the full : and the daye
before fortuned the great slaughter of the Fabians, of the
which were slaine by the Thuscans in one daye 300 all of a
name. The very daye it self was afterwards called Alliade,
of the name of the litle river, by the which the 2 overthrow
was geven. But for the difference of dayes, that some of
them are naturally unfortunate, or that Heraclitus the
philosopher had reason to reprove the poet Hesiodus, for
making some days good, and some dayes ill, as though he
understood they were not all of one nature : we have written
and declared our opinion therof in other places. Yet,
bicause the matter delivereth present occasion to speake of
340

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

the same, perad venture it wil not be amisse to alleage a few FURIUS
examples of it only. It fortuned the Boeotians on a time to CAMILLUS
winne two honorable victories, on the first daye of the
moneth they call Hippodromus (and which the Athenians
call Hecatomhceon) that is now the moneth of lune, by
cither of the which they did still restore the Grecians to
their libertie. The first was the battell of Leuctres. The
second was the battell of Geraste, which was two hundred
yeres before, when they overcame Lattamias, and the Thes-
salians in battell. The Persians contrarily were overcome
in battail by the Grecians, the sixt daye of August, at the
jomey of Marathon. The third day, at the battell of
Platees. And on the selfe same daye, neere unto Mycala.
On the five and twenty daye, at the fight of Arbeles, the
Athenians wanne the battell by sea, neere unto He of Naxos,
under the charge and government of Chabrias, about the
full of the moone, in the moneth of August. And on the
twenty of the same moneth, they wanne the battell of Sala-
mina: as we have written more amplie in our historic of
difference of dayes. The moneth of Aprill also brought to
the barbarous people many notable losses. For Alexander
the great, overcame the generall of the king of Persia, at
the fielde of Granica, in the sayed moneth. The Cartha-
ginians also were vanquished in Sicile by Timoleon, on the
seven and twenty daye thereof. On which daye also it is
thought the cittie of Troye was taken : as Ephorus, Callis-
thenes, Damastes, and Phylarchus, have written in their
histories. Nowe contrariwise. The moneth of lulye, which
the Boeotians call Panemus, hath not bene gratious to the
Grecians. For on the seven daye of the same, they were
overthrowen by Antipater at the battell of Cranon, which
was their utter destruction. They had before also lost a
battell the same moneth, neere unto the cittie of Chaeronea,
by king Phillippe. On the same daye also, and in the very
self moneth and yere, those which came into Italic with
king Archidamus, were slaine every one of them, by the
barbarous people of the country. The Carthaginians also
feare the seven and twenty daye of the same moneth, as the
daye which had before time brought them into manv great

'341

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

FURIUS and sorowfull calamities. Contrarilie also, I knowe very
CAMILLUS well, how about the feast of mysteries, the cittie of Thebes
was destroyed by Alexander, and that the Athenians were
compelled to receyve a garrison of souldiers into their cittie,
about the twenty daye of August, at which time they made
the holie procession of the mysteries of lacchus. And on
the self day the Romaines lost their armie, and their generall
Caepio, who was slaine by the Cimbres. And how after-
wards under the leading of Lucullus, they overcame Tigranes,
and the Armenians. And that Attains, and Pompey also,
dyed both on the selfe same daye they were borne. To
conclude, infinite examples of men might be brought, unto
whom after like revolutions of time, there happened notable
chaunces of good or ill. But to retume againe unto our
historie. The daye of this overthrowe, is one of those which
The Romaines the Romaines take for one of the unfortunatest dayes that
superstition ever came unto them. And by reason of that day, they
m observing reckon two other dayes of every moneth very unfortunate,
" engendred through feare and superstition, which spreadeth

farre (as commonly it doth) upon such sinister misfortunes.
But for this matter, we have written it more largely and
exquisitly in the booke we made, of the ceremonies and
customes of the Romaines. Now after this battell lost, if
the Gaules had hottely pursued the chase of their flying
enemies, nothing could have saved Rome from being taken,
and the inhabitants therof from being put unto the sword.
For the Romaines that fled from the battell, brought such a
feare upon those that receyved them, and filled the whole
cittie of Rome with such greif and trembling : that they
wist not what to doe. The barbarous people againe, beleev-
ing litle their victorie was so great as it was, fell to make
good cheere for so great a joye received, and devided among
them the spoyle of their enemies goods they found in the
campe. So gave they time and leysure by this meanes, to
the multitude of people that fled out of Rome, to seeke
them some place of safety : and to such as remained still,
they left good hope to save them selves, and to make some
provision for defence. Thereupon they all fortified them
selves within mount Capitoll, and storing it with all kind of
342

• •?rir»rf»^»f»»'M'-»"*'^t'»»

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

vitaill, armor, and munition, they wholy dyd forsake the FURIUS
rest of the cittie. But the first worke they tooke in hande CAMILLUS
was this. They dyd bring into their sayed forte, parte of
their sacred relickes : and the professed Vestalls brought
thither also their holy fire and all other their holy monu- The holy fier.
ments. Some writers saye, that they had nothing els in
keeping, but the sempiternall fyer, and were so consecrated
by king Numa, who dyd first institute, that the fyer should
be worshipped, as the beginning of all things. For that it
is the most motive and quickest substance that is of all The force of
naturall things : notwithstanding, that generation also is a ^Y^^-
moving, or at the least not done without motion. For we see,
that all other substance which lacketh heate, remaineth idle,
and without action, and sturreth not, no more then doth a
dead thing, which craveth the force and heate of fyre : as
the soule it selfe recovering heate, beginneth somewhat to
move, and disposeth it selfe to doe, and suffer some thing.
Wherefore Numa being (as they saye) a man of great learn-
ing and understanding, who for his wisedome was reported
to talke many times with the Muses, dyd consecrate the
same as a most sacred thing, and commaunded that they
never should suffer that fyre to goe out, and but keepe it,
as they would preserve the lively image of the etemall God,
the only King and maker of the worlde. Other saye, that
the fyer bumed continually there before the holy and sacred
things, signifying a kinde and manner of purification, which
opinion the Grecians holde also : howbeit behinde the same
fyer, there were certen hidden things, which in no case any
might see, but those holy Vestall Nunnes. Many also holde
an opinion, that the Palladium of Troye (as much to say, as
Pallas image) is hidden also there, which was brought by
Mneas into Italic. Other doe reporte also, that Dardanus,
at that time when he first beganne to buylde the cittie of
Troye, brought thither the holy images of the goddes of
Samothracia, and he dyd offer them up there : and howe
iEneas after the cittie was taken, dyd steale them awaye,
and kept them untill he came to dwell in Italic. Some
other also, that take upon them to knowe more therein then
the common sorte, doe holde opinion, that there are two

343

FURIUS
CAMILLUS

Fabius chief
bishoppe of
Rome.

Rome taken
of the Gaules.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

pipes not very great, whereof the one is emptie and standeth
open, the other is full and fast locked up, howbeit they are
not to be seene but by these holy Nunnes. Other thincke
also, that these imaginers invented that they spake of their
owne heads, bicause the Vestall Nunnes dyd cast all that
they could put in at that time, into two pipes, which they
buried after in the grounde, within the temple of Quirinus :
and herefore that very place carieth the surname at this
daye of pipes. Howbeit they caried about them the most
precious things they had, and fled alongest the river. Where
one Lucius Albinus (one of the common people) flying also,
and having brought away his wife and litle chilclren, and
other household stuffe he had in a carte, by chaunce he
lighted upon the Vestall Nunnes in the waye. But so sone
as he perceyved these holy Nunnes (carving the blessed
relickes and juells in their armes, dedicated unto the service
of the goddes) all alone, and that they were wearie with
going a foote : he caused his wife and his children to come
out of the carte, and tooke downe all his goodes also, and
willed them to get them up, and flye into some cittie or
towne of Grece. Thus, me thought I could not well passe
over with silence, Albinus reverence and devotion he shewed
unto the goddes, in so daungerous a time and pinche of
extremitie. Furthermore the priests of other goddes, and
the most honorablest olde men of the cittie of Rome (that
had bene Consuls before time, or had past the honour of
triumphe) had not the harte to forsake Rome : but putting
on all their most holy robes and vestments dyd vowe, and as
it were willingly sacrificed them selves unto the fortune that
should befall them, for the safety of their countrie. And
using certain words and prayers which their high bishoppe
Fabius had taught them, they went even thus apparelled
into the great market place, and dyd sit them downe there,
in chayers of ivory, expecting the good will and pleasure of
the godds what should become of them. But with in three
dayes after, Brennus came to Rome with his army : who
finding the gates of the cittie all open, and the walles with-
out watche, he dowted some devise in it, and feared some
privie ambush had bene layed, as one hardly beleeving to
344

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

have found the Romaines of so base a mind, as to forsake FURIUS
their cittie. After being enformed of the troth, he entred CAMILLUS
into Rome by the gate Collina, and tooke the same, litle
more then three hundred and three score yeres after it was
first builded : if it be true at the least there hath remained
any certen chronicles of those times unto this present daye,
considering the trouble and confusion of that time hath
made many things more uncerteine then that, dowtefull
unto us. But so it was, that the rumor ranne to Grece
incontinently howe Rome was taken, but yet withall som-
what doubtefully and uncertainely. For Heraclides Ponticus
(who was about that time) sayeth in a certen booke he wrote
of the soule, that there was newes come from the West parte,
that an armie which came from the Hyperborians, had taken
a cittie of Grece called Rome, situated in that country neere
the great sea. But I wonder not that Heraclides (who hath
written so many other fables and lyes) dyd amplifie the true
newes of the taking of Rome, with adding to of his owne
devise, of the Hyperborians, and by the great sea. It is a
most true tale, that Aristotle the philosopher had certain Aristotles
knowledge it was taken by the Gaules : howbeit he sayeth testimonie of
also it was recovered againe afterwards by one called Lucius : p fj^^g ^°^ *
where in deede it was, by Marcus Camillus, and not by
Lucius. But all this in manner is spoken by conjecture.
Moreover, Brennus being entred Rome, dyd appointe parte
of his souldiers to besiege those which were gotten into
mount CapitoU. And he with the residue of his armie,
marched on towards the market place : where when he
saw the auncient Senatours set so gravely in their chayers, The majestic
and spake never a word, nor offered once to rise, though of the olde
they saw their enemies come armed towards them, neither • ^!t**^"^^ w
chaunged countenance, nor culler at all, but leaned softely on pi^^g ^f
their staves they had in their hands, seeming to be nothing Rome,
affrayed nor abashed, but looked one upon another, he mar-
velously wondred at it. This their so straunge manner at
the first dyd so dampe the Gaules, that for a space they
stoode still, and were in doubte to come neere to touche
them, fearing least they had bene some goddes : untill suche
time, as one of them went boldely unto Marcus Papyrius,
2X 345

FURIUS
CAMILLUS

The cittie of
Rome rased by
the Gaules.

The citie of
Ardea.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

and layed his hand fayer and softely upon his long bearde.
But Papyrius gave him such a rappe on his pate with his
staffe, that he made the bloud ronne about his eares. This
barbarous beaste was in such a rage with the blowe, that he
drue out his sworde, and slewe him. The other souldiers
also killed all the rest afterwardes : and so the Gaules con-
tinued many dayes spoyling and sacking all thinges they
founde in the houses, and in the ende dyd set them all a
fyer, and destroyed them every one, for despite of those
that kept the forte of the Capitoll, that would not yeld
upon their summons, but valliantly repulsed them when
they scaled the walles. For this cause they rased the whole
cittie, and put all to the sworde that came in their handes,
young and olde, man, woman, and childe. Nowe this siege
continuing long, and the Romaines holding them out very
stowtely, vittells beganne to growe scante in the campe of
the Gaules, in so much as they were driven of force to seeke
it abroade without the cittie. Hereupon they devided them
selves, whereof some remained still with the King at the
siege of the Capitoll : and the rest went a forraging, and
spoyling all the champion countrie and villages thereaboutes,
scattered as it were by bandes and companies, some here,
some there, fearing nothing, nor passing upon watch or
warde, they lived in suche securitie of their victorie. How-
beit the greatest company amongest them, went by fortune
towardes the cittie of Ardea, where Camillus dwelt, living
like a private man, medling with no matters of state from
the time of his exile, untill that present time. But then he
beganne not to bethinke him self as a man that was in safety,
and might have escaped the handes of his enemies, but rather
sought to devise and finde out all the meanes he could to
subdewe them if occasion were so offered. Whereupon, con-
sidering that the inhabitants of Ardea were enough in number
to set upon them, although faynte harted, and cowardly, by
reason of the slouth and negligence of their govemours and
captaines, who had no manner of experience in the warres :
he beganne to cast out these words among the young men.
That they should not thinke the Romaines misfortune fell
upon them, through the valliantnes of the Gaules, nor that
346

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GRECIANS AND ROMANES

their calamitie (who had refused good counsaill) had hap- FURIUS
pened unto them by any worke or acte of the Gaules, having CAMILLUS
done nothing for their parte to make them carie awaye the Camillus
victorie : but that they should thinke, it was no other thing, hordes unto
but fortune alone, that would needes shewe her power. in^gxcusTof
Therefore, that it were nowe a notable and honorable theRomaiues,
enterprise (although somewhat daungerous) to drive these
straungers and barbarous people out of their countrie : con-
sidering that the only ende of their victorie was, but to
destroye and consume as fire, all that fell into their hands.
Wherefore if they would but only take a good lusty harte
and corage unto them, he would with opportunitie, and
place, assure them the victorie, without any daunger. The
young men were pleased with these words of life and com-
forte. Whereupon Camillus went to breake the matter also Camillus per-
unto the magistrates and counsellours : and having drawen suadeth the
them by persuasion unto this enterprise, he armed all that +ake^armes
were of age to carie armor, and would not suffer a man to against the
goe out of the cittie, for feare least the enemies (which were Gaules.
not farre of) should have intelligence of the same. Now
after the Gaules had ronne over all the champion countrie,
and were loden with all sorts of spoyles, they did encampe
them selves negligently in open fields, and never charged
Avatch nor warde : but having their full cariage of wine layed
them down to slepe, and made no noyse at all in their campe.
Camillus being advertised therof by his severall skowtes,
caused the Ardeans with as little noyse as might be, forth-
with to goe out into the fields : and having marched som-
what roundly the distance betwene the cittie, and the campe
of the Gaules, they came thither much about midnight.
Then he made his soldiers make great showtes and cries,
and the trumpets to be sounded on every side, to put a .

feare in their enemies, who yet with all the lowde noyse they
made, could hardly be made to wake, they were so deadly
dronke. Yet there were some notwithstanding, that for feare
to be taken tardy, dyd bustle up at this sodaine noyse :
and coming to them selves, fell to their weapons to resist
Camillus, which were slayne by and by. The rest, and the
greatest number of them, laye here and there scattered in

347

FURIUS
CAMILLUS

Camillus slue
the Gaules
hard by
Ardea.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

the middest of the field, without any weapon, dead a sleepe,
starcke droncke with wine, and were put to the sworde, and
never strake stroke. Those that fled out of the campe that
night (which were but fewe in number) were overthrowen
also the next daye, by the horse men which followed and
killed them, as they tooke them straggling here and there in
the fieldes. The brute of this victorie was blowen abroade
incontinently through all the townes and villages there-
abouts, which caused many young men to come and joyne
them selves to Camillus : but specially the Romaines desired
the same, that had saved them selves in the cittie of Veies,
after the battell lost at Allia, who made their mones
amongest them selves there, saying : O goddes, what a cap-
taine hath fortune taken from the cittie of Rome ? What
honour hath the cittie of Ardea by the valliantnes and
worthy deedes of Camillus : and in the meane season, his
naturall cittie that brought him forth, is now lost, and
utterly destroyed ? We, for lacke of a captaine to leade us,
are shut up here within others walles, and doe nothing but
suffer Italie in the meane space to goe to ruine, and utter
destruction before our eyes. Why then doe we not send to
the Ardeans for our captaine .'' or why doe we not arme our
selves, to goe unto him ? For he is nowe no more a banished
man, nor we poore cittizens : since our cittie is possessed
with the forein power, of our hatefidl enemies. So they all
agreed to this counsaill, and sent unto Camillus to beseche
him to be their captaine, and leade them. But he made
aunswer, he would in no case consent unto it, unles they that
were besieged in the CapitoU had lawfully first confirmed it
by their voyces. For those (sayed he) so long as they
remaine within the cittie, doe represent the state and bodie
thereof. Therefore if they commaunded him to take this
charge upon him, he would most willingly obey them : if
otherwise they misliked of it, that then he would not medle
against their good willes and commaundement. They having
receaved this aunswer, there was not a Romaine amongest
them, but greatly honored and extolled the wisedome and
justice of Camillus. But nowe they knewe not how to make
them privie to it, that were besieged in the Capitoll : for they
348

.•;'j'jf;vtj}r7:,tpjr,rjrfttin"n

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

sawe no possibilitie to convey a messenger to them : con- FURIUS
sideling the enemies were lordes of the cittie, and layed seige CAMILLUS
to it. Howbeit there was one Pontius Cominius amongest Pontius
the young men (a man of a meane house, but yet desirous of Cominius got
honour and glory) that offered him self very willingly to "P \"*^^ the
venter to get in if he could. So he tooke no letters to cary Ro^e*
to them which were besieged, for feare least they might be
intercepted, and so they should discover Camillus intention :
but putting on an ill favoured gowne upon him, he con-
veyed certen peces of corcke under it, and traveling at none
dayes kept on his waye without feare, untill he came to
Rome, bringing darke night with him. And bicause he
could not passe over the bridge, for that the Barbarous
people kept watche upon it : he wrapped such clothes as he
had, about his necke (which were not many, nor heavy) and
tooke the river, and swimming with these corcks he had
brought, at the length he got over to the other side where
the cittie stoode. Then taking up those lanes allwayes
where he thought the enemies were not, seeing fire, and
hearing noyse in other places, he went to the gate Carmen-
tale, where he found more silence then in other places : on
the which side also, the hill of the Capitoll was more stepe
and upright, by reason of the great rocks that were harde to
clime up upon. But he digged and crept up so long amongest
them, that he got up with great payn unto the wall of the
fortresse, on the which side also the enemie kept no watch :
and saluting the Avatche of the Capitoll, he told them what
he was. So they plucked him up unto them, and brought
him to the magistrates that ruled then. Who caused the
Senate to assemble presently, unto whom he told the ncwcs
of Camillus victorie, which they had not heard of before :
and therewith also he dyd declare unto them, the determina-
tion of the Romaine souldiers that were abroade, which was,
to make Camillus their captaine and general, and did per-
suade them also to graunt him the charge, for that he was
the only man abroad whom the cittizens gave their consents „
to obey. When they heard this, all that were within the ch^en^icta-
Capitoll, consulted thereupon amongest them selves, and so tor the second
did chuse Camillus Dictator, and returned the messenger time.

349

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

FURIUS Pontius Cominius backe againe, the self same way he came unto
CAMILLUS them. His fortune in returning backe, was like unto his
coming thither : for the enemies never sawe him. And so he
brought reporte unto them that were abroad, of the Senates
decree and consent, whereof they all were marvelous glad.
Thus came Camillus to take this charge of generall upon
him, and found there were twenty thousand good fighting
men abroade, and well armed. Then got he further ayde
also of their allies and confederates, and prepared daylie to
goe and set upon the enemies. So was Camillus chosen nowe
Dictator the seconde time, and went unto the cittie of Veies,
where he spake with the Romaine souldiers that were there,
and leavied a great number of the allies besides, to goe fight
with the enemies as sone as he could. But whilest CamiUus
was thus a preparing, certen of the Barbarous people in
Rome, walking out by chaunce on that side of the Capitoll
where Pontius Cominius had gotten up the night before :
spied in divers places the printes of his feete and hands, as
he had griped and gotten holde, still digging to get up, and
sawe the weedes and erbes also growing upon the rocks, and
the earth in like manner, flat troden down. Whereupon
they went presently unto the King, to let him understande
the same : who forthwith came to vewe the place. And
having considered it well, he dyd nothing at that time : but
when darke night was come, he called a companie of the
lightest Gaules together, and that used most to digge in
mountaines, and sayed unto them : Our enemies them selves
doe shew us the waye how to take them, which we could not
have founde out but by them selves. For they having gone
up before us, doe geve us easely to understande, it is no im-
possible thing for us to clime up also. Wherefore, we were
utterly shamed, having already begonne well, if we should
fayle also to end well : and to leave this place as unvincible.
For if it were easie for one man alone, by digging to clime up
to the height thereof: much lesse is it harde for many to get up
one after another, so that one doe helpe another. Therefore
Syrs, I assure you, those that doe take paynes to get up, shalbe
honorably rewarded, according to their just deserte. When
the King had spoken these wordes unto the Gaules, they fell
350

'•♦rr»r^«t»"»*'T1»'?f»*t»»'t

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

to it lustely every man to get up : and about midnight, they
beganne many of them to digge, and make stepps up to the
rocke one after another, as softly as could possibly, with
catching holde the best they could, by the hanging of the
rocke, which they found very steepe, but nevertheles easier
to clime, then they tooke it at the beginning. So that the
formest of them being come to the toppe of the rocke, were
now ready to take the walle, and to set upon the watche that
slept : for there was neither man nor dogge that heard them.
It chaunced then there were holy gese kept in the temple of
luno, which at other times were wont to be fed till their
croppes were full : but vittells being very straite, and scante
at that time even to finde the men, the poore gese were so
hard handled, and so litle regarded, that they were in manner
starved for lacke of meate. This fowle in deede naturally
is very quicke of hearing, and so is she also very fearefull
by nature : and being in manner famished with their harde
allowance, they were so much the more waking, and easier
to be afrayed. Upon this occasion therfore, they heard the
comming of the Gaules, and also beganne to ronne up and
downe and crie for feare : with which noyse they did wake
those that were within the castell. The Gaules being
bewrayed by these foolishe gese, left their stealing upon
them, and came in with all the open noyse and terrour they
could. The Romaines hearing this larum, every man tooke
such weapon as came first to his hand, and they ranne
sodainely to rescue that place from whence they understoode
the noyse : among those, the formest man of all was Marcus
Manlius, a man that had bene Consul, who had a lusty
bodye, and as stowte a harte. His happe being to mete
with two of the Gaules together, as one of them was lifting
up his axe to knocke him on the head, he prevented him,
and strake of his hand with his sword, and clapt his target
on the others face so fiercely, that he threwe him backward
down the rocke : and comming afterwards unto the walle
with others that ranne thither with him, he repulsed the
rest of the Gaules that were gotten up, who were not many
in number, neither did any great acte. Thus the Romaines
having ?escaped this daunger, the next morning they threw

351

FURIUS
CAMILLUS

The Gaules
clime up to
the Capitoll
in the night.

The holy gese
saved the
Capitoll.

Marcus Man-
lius repulsed
the Gaules
from the
Capitoll.

FURIUS
CAMILLUS

The Gaules
vexed with
the plague
at Rome.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

the captaine hedlong down the rocks from the castell, who
had charge of the watche the night before : and gave Man-
ilas in recompence of the good service he had done, a more
honorable then profitable rewarde, which was this. Every
man of them gave him halfe a pound of the country wheate,
which they call Far^ and the fourth parte of the measure
of wine, which the Grecians call Cotile : and this might be
about a quarte, being the ordinary allowance of every man
by the daye. After this repulse, the Gaules beganne to be
discoraged, partely for that their vitailles fayled them, and
durst no more forage abroade in the fieldes for scare of
Camillus : and partly also for that the plague came amongest
them, being lodged amongest heapes of dead bodies, lying
in every place above ground without buriall, and amongest
burnt houses destroyed, where the ashes being blowen very
high by the winde and vehemency of heate, dyd geve a drie
persing ayer, that dyd marvelously poyson their bodies when
they came to drawe in the breathe of it. But the greatest
cause of all their mischief was, the chaunge of their wonted
dyet. Who comming out of a freshe countrie, where there
were excellent pleasaunt places to retire unto, to avoyde the
discommoditie of the parching heate of the sommer, were
nowe in a naughty plaine countrie for them to remaine in,
in the latter season of the yere. All these things together
dyd heape diseases upon them, besides the long continu-
aunce of the siege about the Capitoll (for it w£is then about
the seventh moneth) by reason whereof there grewe a mar-
velous death in their campe, through the great numbers of
them that dyed daylie, and laye unburied. But notwith-
standing all the death and trouble of the Gaules, the poore
besieged Romaines were nothing holpen the more, the famine
still dyd growe so fast upon them. And bicause they
could heare nothing of Camillus, they were growen almost
unto a despaire : and send unto him they could not, the
Gaules kept so straight watche upon them in the cittie.
Whereupon both parties finding them selves in harde state,
first the watche of either side beganne to cast out wordes
of peace amongest them selves : and afterwards by consent
of the heades, Sulpitius, Tribune of the souldiers, came to
352

•f'»'?'fvrT»r7?,t}«jKr?rT?tinT"TT"?;mf»rtfM

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

parle with Brennus. In which parle it was articled : that FURIUS
the Romaines should paye a thousand pounde weight of CAMILLUS
golde, and that the Gaules should incontinently after the The Romaines
receipt of the same, departe out of their cittie, and all their "'^'^* about to
territories. This decree being passed by othe from both, [fbertie'of the
the golde was brought. And when it came to be weyed, Gaules with
the Gaules at the first prively beganne to deale falsely with golde.
them : but afterwardes they openly stayed the ballance, and
would not let them waye no more, whereat the Romaines
beganne to be angrie with them. Then Brennus, in scome
and mockery, to despight them more, pluckt of his sworde,
girdell and all, and put it into the ballance where the gold
was wayed. Sulpitius seeing that : asked him what he ment
by it .'* Brennus aunswered him : What canne it signifie els,
but sorrowe to the vanquished ? This worde ever after ranne
as a common proverbe in the peoples mouthes. Some of the
Romaines tooke this vile parte of theirs in such scome, that
they would needes take the gold from them againe by force,
and so returne into their holde, to abide the siege still, as
they had done before. Other were of opinion to the con-
trary, and thought it best with pacience to put up this
scorne of theirs, and not to thincke it was a shame to paye
more then they had promised : but only to paye it by com-
pulsion as they dyd, by misfortune of time, was to thincke
it rather necessary, then honorable. And as they were
debating the matter thus, aswell amongest them selves, as
with the Gaules : Camillus came to Rome gates with his Camillua
armie, and understanding all what had passed betweene came to Rome
them, he commaunded the rest of the army to marche fayer ^' * »i'»'*iniy
and softely after him in good order, and he in the meane
season with the best choyse men he had, went before with
all speede. Assone as the other Romaines within the cittie
had spied him, they showted out for joye, and receaved him
every one with great reverence, without any more wordes,
as their soveraine captaine and prince, who had power over
them all. And Camillus taking the golde out of the skales,
gave it unto his men, and commaunded the Gaules presently
to take up their skales, and to get them going : for, sayeth
he, it is not the Romaines manner to keepe their countrie
2 Y 353

FURIUS
CAMILLUS

Camillus
speaketh
stowtely to
Brennus king
of the Gaules.

Camillus
overthroweth
the armie of
the Gaules.

Rome was 7
moneths in
the handes of
the Gaules.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

with golde, but with the sworde. Then Brennus beganne
to be hotte, and tolde him it was not honorably done of
him, to breake the accorde that had passed betweene them
before by othe. Whereunto Camillus stowtely aunswered
him againe, that accorde was of no validitie. For he being
created Dictator before, all other officers and magistrates
whatsoever, and their actes, by his election were made of no
authoritie : and seeing therefore they had delte with men,
that had no power of them selves to accorde to any matter,
they were to speake to him, if they required ought. For he
alone had absolute authoritie to pardone them if they
repented, and would aske it : or els to punishe them, and
make their bodies aunswer the damages and losse his cuntry
had by them susteyned. These wordes made Brennus madde
as a march hare, that out went his blade. Then they drew
their swordes of all sides, and layed lustely one at an other
as they could, within the houses, and in open streetes, where
they could set no battell in order. But Brennus sodainely
remembring him selfe that it was no even matche for him,
retired with his men about him into his campe, before he
had lost many of his people. The next night following,
he departed out of Rome with all his army, and went to
encampe him self about a three score furlong from thence,
in the highe way that goeth towards the cittie of the
Gabians. Camillus with his whole army well appointed,
went after him immediatly, and showed at his campe by the
breake of daye. The Romaines having taken harte againe
unto them, dyd lustely geve them battell : the same continued
longe, very cruell and doubtefull, untill the Gaules at the
length were overthrowen, and their campe taken with great
slaughter. As for those that dyd escape the furie of the
battell, they were killed, some by the Romaines selves, who
hottely followed the chase after the battell broken : the
residue of them, and the greatest parte, were slaine by those
of the citties and villages neere abouts, that dyd set upon
them as they fled scatteringly here and there in the fields.
And thus was the cittie of Rome straungely againe recovered,
that was before straungely wonne and lost, after it had con-
tinued seven moneths in the handes of the barbarous people.
354

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

For they entred Rome about the fiftenth daye of lulye : FURIUS
and they were driven out againe, about the thirtenth daye of CAMILLUS
Februarye following. So Camillus triumphed as beseemed Camillus
him, and as one that had saved and delivered his countrie triumphed of
out of the handes of their enemies, and set Rome againe at ® *" ®^'
libertie. Those that had bene abroade all the time of this
siege, came into Rome againe, following his triumphing
charret : and those that had bene besieged within the
Capitoll (looking for no other but to have dyed by famin)
went and presented them selves before him, and eche one
embraced other, in weeping wise for joye. The priestes and
ministers of the temples also, presented their holy juells, whole
and undefaced, which some of them had buried in the ground
within the cittie selfe : and others some had caried awaye
with them, when they fled out of Rome. All these the people
dyd as gladly see, as if the goddes them selves had returned
home againe into their cittie. After they had sacrificed
unto the goddes, and rendred them most humble thankes,
and had purged their cittie, as they had bene taught by
men experienced in those matters for satisfaction of the
goddes : Camillus beganne againe to buylde up the temples
that were there before, harde by the which he buylt another
newe one also to the god Aius Locutius, in that very place
where Marcus Ceditius heard the voyce warne him of the
coming of the Gaules. So by Camillus good diligence, and
the priestes great paynes and travaill, the situations of these
temples were with muche a doe founde out againe. But
when they were to buylde againe all the rest of the cittie,
that was wholy burnt, and destroyed to the grounde : the
people had no minde to it, but ever shrinked backe, to put
any hande to the worcke, for that they lacked all thinges
necessarie to beginne the same. Furthermore, waying their
late and long susteined trouble and miseries, they were fitter
to take their ease and rest, then to beginne newe labour and
toyle, to kill their hartes and bodies altogether. For, neither
were their bodies able to performe it, nor yet their goods
to reache to the charge of it. Wherefore disposing their
mindes to dwell in the cittie of Veies, which remained
whole, untouched, and furnished of all thinges to receave

355

FURIUS
CAMILLUS

The busie
headed Ora-
tors stirre the
people to tu-
multe against
Camillus.

Camillus Dic-

tatorshippe

proroged.

Camillus per-
suaded the
people what
he could to
dwell in
Rome, and to
leave Veies.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

them : they delivered to the pratling Orators (whose tongues
dyd never cease to speake placentia to the people) trimme
occasion to set this matter abroache. So they gave good
eare, and were willing to heare certen seditious wordes
spoken against Camillus, which were these. That for his
private ambition he would deprive them of a cittie well
furnished already, and would against their willes compell
them to lodge in their owne houses, wholy burnt and pulled
downe. And moreover, how he would make them to rayse up
againe the great ruine the fire had made, to the ende the
people might call him, not only captaine and generall of
the Romaines, but the founder of Rome also, and so drown
Romulus honorable title thereof. The Senate considering
of this matter, and fearing some tumulte among the people :
they would not suffer Camillus to leave his Dictator shippe
before the ende of the yere, notwithstanding no man ever
enjoyed that office above sixe moneths. Then Camillus for
his parte dyd much endevour him selfe, to comforte and
appease the people, praying them all he could to tarie : and
further pointed with his finger unto the graves of their
auncesters, and put them in minde also of the holy places
dedicated to the goddes, and sanctified by king Numa, or
by Romulus, or by other Kings. But amongest many other
tokens drawen out of holy and divine things, he forgate not
to bring for example, the heade of a man founde newe
and freshe, in making the foundations of the Capitoll, as
if that place by fatal 1 desteny had bene once chosen to be
the heade and chief of all Italic. And moreover, that the
holy fyer of the goddesse Vesta (which sence the warres had
bene kindled againe by the holy Vestall Nunnes) would againe
come to be put out by them, if they did forsake their
naturall cittie, besides the great shame and dishonour it
would be unto them, to see it inhabited in time to come by
unknowne straungers, or els to be left a common field and
pasture, for beastes and cattell to graze in. Such sorowfull
examples and griefes, the honest naturall borne cittizens, dyd
ever blowe into the peoples eares, aswell privately, as openly.
The people againe to the contrarie, dyd make their hartes
to yerne for pittie, when they layed before their eyes their
356

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

penurie, and povertie they sustained : and besought them FURIUS
also not to enforce them to gather and joyne together CAMILLDS
againe the broken peces of a spoyled cittie (as of a shippe-
wracke that had cast them naked into the sea, having only
saved bare life and persones) sence that they had another
cittie neere at hande and ready to receave them. So Ca-
millus counsell was, that the Senate shovdd consulte upon
this matter, and deliver their absolute opinion herein : which
was done. And in this counsell, he him self brought forth
many probable reasons, why they should not leave in any
case, the place of their naturall birth and country : and so
dyd many other Senatours in like case, favoring that opinion.
Last of all, after these persuasions, he commaunded Lucius
Lucretius (whose manner was to speake first in such as-
semblies) that he should stand up and deliver his opinion,
and that the rest also in order as they sat, should saye their
mindes. So every man keeping silence, as Lucretius was
ready to speake, at that present time there passed by their
counsaill house, a captaine with his bande that warded that
daye, who spake alowde to his ensigne bearer that went
formest, to staye, and set downe his ensigne there : for, sayed
he, here is a very good place for us to warde in. These
wordes being heard up into the Senate house, even as they
stoode all in a doubte and maze what would be the resolu-
tion of this matter : Lucretius beganne to saye, that he most
humbly thancked the goddes, and allowed of the captaines
judgment, and so every one of the rest in their order, sayed
as much. Moreover there was a wonderfull chaunge and
alteration of minde sodainely among the common people :
for every man dyd persuade and encorage his fellowe lively
to put his hand to this worke. Insomuch as tarying for no
division or appointing out of streetes, nor setting out every
man his place he should builde in : they fell to worke of
all handes, everie one chosing that place he liked best, and Rome is built
was most commodious for their building, without any other againe.
order or division amongest them. Whereupon, they ronning
to this building on a head, the streetes were confused on
heapes together, and their houses all built out of order and
vmiformitie. For the reporte goeth, that the whole cittie

357

FURIUS
CAMILLUS

Rome was
newe built
againe in a
yere.

Romulus

augures staffe
founde hole
after Rome
was burnt.

Camillus
chosen Dicta-
tor the third
time.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

(as well common as private buildings) was built up new
againe in a yere. But the surveyours, to whom Camillus
had geven charge to finde out all the holy places where the
temples had bene overthrowen : as they went about mount
Pallatine, they came by chaunce to the place, where the
chappell of Mars had stoode, which the Gaules had wholy
burnt and destroyed, as they had done all the rest. They
making cleane the place, and surveying every corner, dyd
finde by chaunce Romulus augures crooked staffe hidden
under a great mount of ashes. This staffe is crooked at one
of the endes, and they call it Lituus, which soothesayers
doe use to quarter out the regions of the element, when they
will beholde the flying of birdes to tell of things to come.
Romulus that was very skillfull in this arte, dyd use this
staffe : and after he was taken awaye from all mens sights,
the priests tooke it, and kept it as a holy relicke, suffering
no creature to laye hands on it. Nowe they founde this
staffe whole and unbroken, where all things els were con-
sumed and perished by fire, they were in a marvelous joye
thereat. For they interpreted this to be a signe, of the
everlasting continuaunce of the cittie of Rome. But before
they could make an ende of all their building, there grewe a
newe warre againe upon them. For at one very instante, all
the vEques, the Volsces, and the Latines, entred with all
their might and mayne into the territories of the Romaines.
The Thuscans also went then and besieged Sutrium, that
was in league and amitie with the Romaines. The Trihuni
militares got them straight to the field with their armie, and
encamped about mount Martian. The Latines besieged
them so straightely, that their army stoode in great daunger
to be overthrowen, and they were driven to sende to Rome
for a newe supplie. Thereupon the Romaines dyd choose
Camillus Dictator againe the third time. The occasion of
this warre is reported two manner of wayes : whereof I will
declare the first, which I doe conceyve to be but a tale.
They saye the Latines sent unto the Romaines, to demaunde
some of their free maydes in mariage : which they dyd either
to make a quarell of warre, or els as desirous in deede, to
ioyne both the peoples againe by newe manages. The
358

•'♦f'M^mffnwJWTTTttnTTirT'rT'tftfrfjri

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

Romaines were amased very much at this, and sore troubled, FURIUS
as not knowing howe to aunswer them, they were so affrayed CAMILLUS
of warres. For they were scante newe setled at home, and
dreaded much lest this demaunde of their daughters, was but
a summons made to geve them hostages, which they finely
cloked under the name of alliance in mariage. Some saye
that there was at that time a bonde mayde called Tutola, Tutola, or
or as some saye, Philotis, that went unto the Senate, and ^^j^^^^^ ?f*^
counselled them they should sende her awaye with some *° ^" '^"
other fayer maydes slaves, dressed up like gentlewomen, and
then let her alone. The Senate liked very well of this
devise, and chose such a number of bonde maydes as she
desired to have, and trimming them up in fine apparell,
begawded with chaines of golde and juells, they sent them
forth to the Latines, who were encamped not farre from the
cittie. When night was come, the other maydes hyd their
enemies swords. But this Tutola, or Philotis (call her as
you will) dyd clime up to the toppe of a wilde figge tree,
from which she shewed a burning torche unto the Romaines,
having made shifte to hange somwhat behinde her, to keepe
the light from sight of the enemies. For this signal! the
Senate of Rome had secretly appointed her to set up, which
was the cause that the issuing out of the souldiers being
commaunded to goe out in the night, was full of trouble and
tumulte. For being pressed by their captaines, they called
one another, and there was great a doe to put them into
order of battell. Thus they went to take their enemies Rome de-
sleeping, who nothing mistrusting the same, were slaine the li^ered from
most parte of them within their campe. This was done ^^x""}^ J.
on the fifte day of the moneth called Quintilis, and now is bondmavde,
named lulye : at which time they doe yet celebrate a certaine
feast in reraembraunce of that acte. For first of all, going
out of the citie, they call alowde many of their fellowes
names which are most common : as Caius, Marcus, and
Lucius, showing thereby howe one of them called another
after that sorte, as they went in great haste out of the cittie.
Afterwardes all the mayde servauntes of the cittie being
trimmely apparelled, goe playing up and downe the towne,
pleasauntly j easting with those they mete : and in the ende

359

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

FURIUS
CAMILLUS

The maydens
feaste, called
Nonce Capra-
tiruB.

they make as though they fought together, in token that
they dyd helpe the Romaines at that time to destroye the
Latines. Then they are feasted, sitting under bowers made
with wilde figge tree boughes : and this feaste daye is called,
Nonce Capratince, by reason of the wilde figge tree (as some
thincke) from the toppe whereof, the bonde mayde shewed to
the Romaines the burning torche. For the Romaines call
the wilde i^gge tree, Caprificiis. Other saye, that all these
things are done and spoken, in remembrance of the mis-
chaunce that happened unto Romulus, when he was taken
out of their sight, the same day without the gats of the
citty, at which time there rose a sodain miste and darke
clowd. Or as some other saye, that then was the eclypse of
the sunne : and they holde opinion that the day was named
Nonce Capratince, bicause Capra in the Romain tongue, sig-
nifieth a goate. Romulus vanished out of mens sightes, as
he was making an oration unto his people, neere unto the
place which is called goate marshe, as we have mentioned
more at large in his life. The 2 occasion and beginning of
this warre (according to the opinion of most writers) was, that
Camillus being chosen Dictator the third time, and knowing
that the Trih. militares with their army were straightly
besieged by the Latines, and Volsces : he was inforced to
arme all the olde men, who for very age were priviledged
from further service in warres. And having fetched a great
compasse about mount Martian, bicause he would not be
scene of his enemies, he came to lodge his campe behind
them, where he raised fiers, to make the Romaines knowe
that were besieged, how he was come : which as sone as
they perceived, they tooke to them corage again, and de-
termined to fight. But the Latines and Volsces kept within
their campe, and dyd entrenche and fortifie them selves with
a wall of wodd, which they layed a crosse, bicause they saw
they were beset both before and behind : and determined to
tary the releefe of a new supply, as well of their owne, as of
some further ayde besides from the Thuscans, which thing
Camillus perceaving, and fearing least they should serve him,
as he had already handled them by compassing of him again
behind : he thought it necessary to prevent this. So eon-
360

•prtfTwm fftitrwntni w Mr r ■ r?rf f >'» «h<

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

sidering the inclosure and fortification of their campe was
all of wodde, and that every morning commonly, there came
a great winde from the side of the mountaines, he made
provision of a number of fire brandes. And leading out
his armie into the fields by brealce of day, he appointed
one parte of them to geve charge upon the enemies on the
one side, with great noyse and showting : and he with
the other parte determined to rayse fier on the contrary
side, from whence the ^vinde should come, looking for
oportunitie to doe the same. When he sawe the sunne up,
and the winde beginning to whistle, blowing a good gale
from the side of the hilles, and that the skirmishe was
begonne on the other side : then he gave a signall unto the
companie he led with him, to set upon the enemies, and made
them throwe into the inclosure of their campe, divers potts
and dartes with fire, so that the flame finding matter to
catche holde of, in this inclosure of wodde, and trees layed
overthwart, dyd raise straight an exceding great flame in
the ayer, and still got waye inwards into the Latines campe.
Whereupon the Latines being unprovided of present remedy
to quenche the flame, and seeing their campe a fyre all about
their eares : they gathered them selves together at the first in
a very small roome. Nevertheles, they were inforced m the
ende to get them into the field, and there they founde their
enemies ready armed, and in battell raye. So as fewe of
those escaped that came into the field, and their fellowes
that remained within their campe, were burnt to death with
fyer, mitill the Romaines them selves came to quench it for
greedines of their spoyle and goodes. When all this was
done, Camillus left his sonne in the campe, to keepe the
prisoners and spoyles : and he him self, with the rest of the
armie, went to invade his enemies contrie, where he tooke
the cittie of ^ques. Then after he had overcome the
Volsces, he led his army presently from thence unto the cittie
of Sutrium. For he had not yet harde of their misfortime.
Therefore he hasted him self to ayde them, bicause he
thought they were yet besieged by the Thuscans. But suche
was their harde fortune, that they had already yelded up
their cittie by composition, and saved no parte of their
2Z 361

FURIUS
CAMILLUS
Camillus
strata^eame
against the
Latines and
Volsces.

Camillus slue
the Latines.

Camillus
tooke the
citie of
^ques.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

FURIUS goodes, but the very clothes they had on their backs. So
CAMILLUS being turned out of all they had, they met Camillus by the
waye as they were wandring abroad, lamenting their miserie,
with their ^vives and litle young children : whose miserie
went to the very harte of Camillus, when he beheld their
lamentable state. Furthermore, when he sawe the Romaines
weepe for pittie also, to see the mone that these unfortunate
people made unto him, and that it greved them hartely to
beholde their great mischaunce : he determined with him
self not to deferre revenge, but presently to goe the selfe
same daye before the cittie of Sutrium, imagining that he
should finde the Thuscans out of order, without keeping
watch, and attending nothing but making good cheere,
bicause they had newly taken a wealthy riche cittie, where
they had left never an enemy in the same to hurte them,
neither feared any abroad to come neere to assaulte them.
And in deede it fell out rightly as he gessed. For he had
not only passed through the territories of the cittie, without
any intelligence geven to the enemies within the same : but he
was come to the very gates, and had taken the walles, before
they hard any thing of his coming, by reason they neither
kept watch nor warde, but were dispersed abroade in the cittie,
in every house, eating and drincking droncke together. In-
somuch as when they knew their enemies were already within
the cittie, they were so full fraight with meate and wine,
that the most of their wittes served them not so much as to
flye, but taried untill they were slaine or taken, like beastes
in the houses. Thus was the cittie of Sutrium t^vise taken in
one daye. And it chamiced that those which had wonne it,
lost it : and those which had lost it, recovered it againe by
Camillus meanes. "WTio deserved both the honour and entrie
of triumphe into Rome : the which wanne him no lesse good
will and glorie, then the two first before had done prayse,
and gotten fame. For even his greatest enemies that most
spighted and envied his former noble actes, ascribing them
rather to fortune that favored him, then to his valliantnes or
worthines : were forced nowe by this deede of his to confesse,
that his 'svisedome and valliantnes deserved prayse and com-
mendation to the skyes. Camillus of all his enemies had one
362

Camillus
wanne the
citie of
Sutrium.

:?f*|MV'>'f»l*»W*JTf'flf»»l^'twnrr'*n*f>tfrtjf

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

most bitter to him, which was Marcus Manlius, that was the
first man that gave the Gaules the repulse that night they
had entered the walles of the Capitoll, and had thought to
have taken it : whereupon they gave him the surname of
Capitolinus. He aspiring to be the chief of the cittie, and
finding no direct waye to exceede the glory of Camillus, tookc
the broade highe waye of them that practise tyrannic. For
he beganne to flatter the common people, and specially those
that were indebted : he tooke upon him to defende their
causes, and pleaded their case at the barre against their
creditours. Sometimes he tooke the debters out of the
creditoiu's handes and caried them awaye by force, that for
lacke of abilitie to paye, were by rigour of the lawe con-
demned to be bonde slaves. But by this practise, in shortc
time he gotte him a marvelous number of suche needie
followers, and poore men, that the noble men and honest
cittizens were affray ed of the insolent partes they played, and
of the continuall troubles and tumultes they daylie stirred up
in the market place. Therefore suspecting the worst in this
case, they dyd choose Quintus Capitolinus Dictator : who
caused the sayed Manlius immediately to be apprehended,
and committed him to prison. Whereupon the people be-
ganne to chaunge their apparell : which they were never
wont to doe, but in great and common calamities. But the
Senate fearing least some commotion would vyse hereupon,
they dyd set him at libertie againc. He being thus out of
prison, was no whit the better, nor wiser thereby, but dyd
still stirre up the commons, more boldely and seditiously,
then before. Then was Camillus chosen againe Trtbumis
militarise and Manlius was accused in his time of office. But
when this matter came to pleading, the sight of the Capitoll
troubled his accusers much. For the very place it selfc where
Manlius had repulsed the Gaules by night, and defended the
Capitoll, was easely seenc from the market place, where the
matter was a hearing : and he him sclfe pointing with his,
hande, shewed the place unto the goddes, and weeping
tenderly he layed before them the remembraunce of the
hazarde of his life, in fighting for their safety. This dyd
move the judges hartes to pittic, so as they knew not what to

363

FURIUS
CAMILLUS

Marcus Man-
lius Capito-
linus moveth
sedition.

Flattery and
hypocrisie
wiuneth the
multitude
and common
people.

Manlius clapt
in prison by
Q. Capitolinus
Dictator.

Camillus
chosen againe
Tribunus
mi/Hans.

FURIUS
CAMILLUS

Marcus
Manlius
Capitolinus
put to death.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

doe, but many times they dyd put over the hearing of his
case unto another daye, and neither would they geve judge-
ment, knowing he was convicted by manifest proofes : neither
could they use the severitie of the lawe upon him, bicause
the place of his so notable good service was ever still before
their eyes. Wherefore Camillus finding the cause of delaye
of justice, dyd make the place of judgement to be removed
without the cittie, into a place called the wodde Petelian,
from whence they could not see the Capitoll. And there the
accusers gave apparent evidence against him : and the j udges
considering all his Avicked practises, conceaved a just cause
to punishe him, as he had deserved. So they gave sentence
of death against him : that he should be caried to the
mount Capitoll, and there to be throwen downe hedlonge
the rockes thereof. Thus, one, and the selfe place was a
memory of his notable good service, and also a memoriall of
his miserable and unfortunate end. Besides all this, they
rased his house, and built in the same place a temple to the
goddesse they call Moneta : and made a lawe also, that no
Patrician from thenceforth should dwell any more in the
mount Capitoll. Camillus after this, being called againe to
take the office of Tribunus militaris the sixt time : he sought
to excuse him selfe aswell for that he sawe he was well stepte
in yeres, as also for that he feared fortunes spight, or some
mishappe, after he had obteined such glorie for his noble
actes and service. Howbeit the most apparent cause of his
excuse, was his sickenes, which troubled him much at that
time. But the people would allowe no excuse by any
meanes, but cried out, they dyd not desire he should fight
a foote nor a horse backe, but that he should only geve
counsaill, and commaunde : and therefore they compelled
him to take the charge, and to leade the armie with one of
his companions named Lucius Furius, against their enemies
the Praenestines, and the Volsces, who joyning together, dyd
invade the confines of the Romaines friendes. So he led his
army out immediately to the field, and camped as neere the
enemy as he could : being minded for his parte to drawe the
warres out in length, that he might fight afterAvards (if
neede required) when he had recovered strength. But Furius
364

•M?rwf?!m'mn'r»twm-T"fmj»fnrr»f

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

contrarilie coveting glorie, was whottely bent to hazarde the

battell, whatsoever perill came of it : and to this cnde he

sturred up, and incoraged the captaines of everie private

bande. Wherfore Camillus fearing least they should thinke,

for ill will he bare the young men, that he went about to

hinder and take awaye the meanes to winne their honour,

and to doe some noble acte : suffered Furius against his will

to put his men in order of battell, and he in the meane

season by reason of his sicknes, remained ^vith a fewe

about him in the campe. So went Lucius upon a head

to present battell to the enemie, and so was he as headilie

also overthrowen. But Camillus hearing the Romaines

were overthrowen : sicke as he was upon his bedde, got up,

and taking his householde servantes with him, he went

in haste to the gates of the campe, and passed through

those that fled, untill he came to mete with the enemies

that had them in chase. The Romaines seeing this that

were already entred into the campe, they followed him

at the heeles forthwith : and those that fled also without,

when they sawe him, they gathered together, and put them

selves againe in arraye before him, and persuaded one

another not to forsake their captaine. So their enemies

hereupon stayed their chasing, and would pursue no further

that daye. But the next morning, Camillus leading his

armie into the fielde, gave them battell, and wanne the field

of them by plaine force : and following the victorie harde,

he entred amongest them that fled into their campe pelmel,

or hand overheade, and slue the most parte of them even

there. After this victorie, he was advertised howe the

Thuscans had taken the cittie of Sutrium, and had put to

the sworde all the inhabitants of the same, which were the

Romaines cittizens. Whereupon he sent to Rome the greatest

parte of his army, and keeping with him the lightest and

lustiest men, went and gave assaulte unto the Thuscans, that

nowe were harbored in the cittie of Sutrium. Which when

he had wonne againe, he slue parte of them, and the other

saved them selves by flight. After tliis, he returned to

Rome with an exceeding spoyle, confirming by experience,

the wisedome of the Romaines, who dyd not feare the age

365

FURIUS
CAiMlLLUS

Lucius Furius
gave battell to
the Praenes-
tines and
Volsces, and
was over-
throwen.

CamiUus
wanne the
fielde of the
Prseuestines
and Volsces.

Camillus slue
the Thuscans
at Sutrium.

FURIUS
CAMILLUS

Camillus sent
again against
the Thuscu-
lanians.

The crafte of
the Thuscu-
lanians.

Great sedi-
tion moved
in Rome by
Licinius
Stole.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

nor sicknes of a good captaine that was experte and valliant :
but had chosen him against his will, though he was both
olde and sicke, and preferred him farre before the younger
and lustier that made sute to have the charge. Newes being
brought unto the Senate, that the Thusculanians were
revolted, they sent Camillus thither againe, willing him of
five other companions to take out one he liked best, every of
the which desired to be chosen, and made their sute unto
him for the same. But he refusing all other, dyd chose
againe Lucius Furius beyounde all expectation of men, see-
ing not long before he needes would against his will hazarde
battell, in which he was overthrowen. Howbeit Camillus,
having a desire (as I thincke) to hyde his faulte and shame
he had receaved : dyd of curtesie preferre him before all
other. Nowe the Thusculanians hearing of Camillus coming
against them, subtilly sought to culler the faulte they had
already committed. Wherefore they put out a great number
of people into the fields, some to plowe, other to keepe the
beastes, as if they had bene in best peace : and dyd set the
gates of the cittie wide open, sent their children openly to
schoole, their artificers wrought their occupation in their
shoppes, the men of haviour and honest cittizens walked in
the market place in their long gownes, and the officers and
governours of the cittie went up and downe to every house,
commaunding them to prepare lodgings for the Romaines,
as if they had stoode in no feare at all, and as though they
had committed no faulte. Howbeit all these fine fetches
could not make Camillus beleeve, but that they had an
intent to rebell against the Romaines : yet they made
Camillus pittie them, seeing they repented them of that
they had determined to doe. So he commaunded them to
goe to Rome to the Senate, to crave pardone of their faulte :
and he him selfe dyd helpe them, not only to purge their
cittie of any intent of rebellion, but also to get them the
priviledge and freedome of Rome. And these be the chiefest
acts Camillus dyd in the sixt time of his tribuneshippe.
After this, one Licinius Stolo moved great sedition in the
cittie, betwene the common people, and the Senate. For
he would in any case that of the two Consuls, which were
366

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ffmwHrwwfm?Mwmwrrr

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

chosen yerely, the one of them should be a commoner, and FURIUS
not that both of them should be of the auncient noble CAMILLUS
families, called Patricians. The Tribunes of the people
were chosen, but the election of the Consuls, the people
stayed : so that the common wealth went to decaye, and
declined to greater troubles, then ever it dyd before, for
lacke of government. But to suppresse this, the Senate
created Camillus the fourth time Dictator : but this was Camillus
sore against his will, bicause it misliked the people muclie. created Die-
Furthermore, he would not complaine of the people, for ^^^"'* the
that they having served under him in many warres and " ""^*
battells, might boldely, and truely saye unto him : that he
had done more notable acts by them in the warres, then he
had done by the Patricians in peace. Yet was he created
Dictator in despight, to rule the people, and of envie in the
noble men towards them. Thus necessitie dyd urge him,
either by force to suppresse the people, if he were the
stronger in this dissention : or els that he him self should
be suppressed, if he became the weaker. Camillus notwith-
standing, preparing to prevent this mischief, and knowing
the daye the Tribunes had determined, to preferre the pass-
ing of their lawe by voyces of the people : he gave warning
by proclamations set upon postes, that the same very daye
he would muster the people, and all was but to drawe them
from the market place into the field of Mars, and dyd set
great penalties upon those that should be lacking at the
musters, and would presume to disobey. The Tribunes of
the people on the contrarie parte, dyd withstande his
threates, and sware they would condemne Camillus selfe in
fiftie thousand Drachmas of silver, if he dyd not let the
people alone, but would goe about to disturbe them for
geving their voyces to such lawe, as they liked of. Camillus
perceaving this, and fearing to be condemned, and banished
once againe, which would fall out very ill for him, being
nowe an olde man, and one that had done so many great
and notable actes, or els for that he thought him selfe not
strong enough to withstande the force of the people : he
kept his house that daye, fayning him selfe to be sicke, and
certaine other dayes following, and in the ende he gave up

367

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

FURIUS
CAMILLUS

Licinius Stolo
made a lawe
for enjoying
of landes.

Stolo the first
offender of
the same law.

The Gaules
come againe
to Rome.

Camillus
chosen Dic-
tator the 5
time.

Howe Camillus
appointed his
souldiers with
armour and
weapon to
fight with
advantage
against the
Gaules.

his office. Thereupon the Senate chose in his place another
Dictator, who named the same Licinius Stolo general of the
horse men, that was the author and furtherer of all this
sedition : and besides dyd suffer him to preferre another
lawe, and to passe it by voyces of the people, that above all
other lawes, dyd most trouble the Patricians. Which lawe
dyd forbid any cittizen of Rome, to have, or occupie above
five hundred jugera, which amount to 330 acres and a halfe,
12 pole, and 121 partes of a pole. Then was this Stolo
alofte, and of great estimation at that time : for that he had
in despite of the Senate established this law. Howbeit
shortely after it was found out, that him self had more
number of acres then his owne lawe permitted. By reason
whereof, he receaved the juste punishment of his owne
devised forfaiture. Yet the most weightie matter of all
this dissention that beganne first, and most of all troubled
the Senate, touching the election of the Consuls, remained
still undetermined. But while these matters were thus in
talke, the Romaines had certen intelligence, howe the Gaules
were departed once againe from the Adriaticke sea, and were
coming with a great power straight unto Rome : upon
reporte of which newes, the warres followed immediately.
For the Gaules destroyed the champion country as they
went : and the poore country men that could not recover
Rome, were scattered here and there amongest the moun-
taines. The feare of this dyd somewhat appease the dis-
sention. The people then assembling with the Senate, and
the baser sorte with the noble, dyd all with one voyce and
assent chuse Camillus Dictator the fifte time. He was nowe
a very olde man, lacking litle of foure score yeres : but
nevertheles, considering the necessitie and present daunger,
without framing any excuse, or starting as he had before, he
undertooke the charge. Nowe that he had taken it upon
him, he presently levied men, and prepared his army. And
knowing very well howe the fiercenes of these barbarous
Gaules consisted, in downe right blowes with their swordes,
with which they would strike of heades and shoulders of
men at a blowe, mangling them like bouchers, without any
cast or skyll of fight : he caused iron salletts, and morians to
368

'fWWfffWft*wntmm

■iniH.iiii.imii

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

be made for the most of his men, as smoothely wrought on FLTRIUS
the out side as could be, that their swordes lighting on them, CAMILLUS
should either slyde of, or breake. Moreover, he caused their
sheldes to have barres made about them of copper, bicause
the wodde selfe was not able to abide their blowes. Further-
more, he dyd teache his souldiers to cary long javelines or
punchion staves, wherewith they might wounde their enemies
lifting up their swordes to strike them. Nowe when the
Gaules were come neere Rome, having pitched their campe
upon the river of Anian, and being full loden and stuffed Anies fl,
with all kindes of spoyle and booties : then Camillus brought
his armie also into the fielde, and went to lodge on a litle
hill which was easie to get upon, where there were many
litle caves, so that the most of his army was all hidden and
covered, and those that were seene, seemed to be retired *

thither into those highe places for an advantage, and of
feare. Camillus to increase this opinion more in his enemies,
and to make them the bolder : dyd suffer them to come and
spoyle even to the foote of the hill where he was lodged,
and stirred not once out to trouble them, but kept him selfe
quiet in his campe and well fortified. Untill such time as
he spyed occasion of advantage, that the best parte of their
army were scattered here and there, a forraging all about
the fieldes : and those which remained in their campe, fell to
eating and drincking, as they used carelesly at all howres.
Then Camillus sent very early before daye, his lightest
armed men, to vexe and trouble the barbarous people in
coming out of their campe, and to let them in any case from
putting their men in order of battell : and he at the breake
of daye, came downe into the plaine, and dyd set his other
men being well armed, in good array e, which were a great
number, and lustie fellowes, and were not as the barbarous
people thought, fewe, and fearefuU. This at the very first
discoraged the hartes of the Gaules marvelously, bicause
they thought them selves dishonored, that the Romaines
should charge upon them first. Afterwardes also Camillus
vantgarde dyd set upon the Gaules, and that on a sodaine,
before they had leysure to put them selves in battell, or to
order their troupes : compelling them to fight without order,
3 A 369

FURIUS
CAMILLUS

Camillus slue
the Gaules
againe.

TheRomaines
howe they
exempted
priestes from
the warres.

LIVES OF THE NOBLE

as they met out of order by chaunce. In the ende also,
Camillus came upon the neckes of them, with all his whole
force, and army together : against whom they ranne not-
withstanding, holding up their naked swordes alofte in their
handes. But the Romaines thrusting with their armed
javelinges, receaved their enemies blowes upon them, and
thereby so rebated the edges of their swordes (their blades
being very sharpe and thinne grounde, and of so softe a
temper) that they bowed againe, and stoode crooked un-
reasonably : and furthermore, having persed their shieldes
through with their punchingstaves, the Gaules armes were so
clogd and wearied with them, the Romaines plucking them
backe to them againe, that they threw away their swordes
and shieldes, and flying in, closed with the Romaines, and
caught holde of their javelines, thincking by plaine force to
have wrested them out of their handes. Howbeit they per-
ceaving then the Gaules were naked, fell straight to their
swordes : and so was the slaughter of their first ranckes
very great. The other fled scatteringly here and there, all
about the plaine : bicause Camillus had caused all the hilles
and mountaines about them to be occupied and possessed.
Neither dyd they retire towardes their campe, for that it
was unfortified, and also knewe well enough it would be
easely taken. This battell (as they saye) was thirteene yeres
after their taking of Rome before. But after that fielde,
the Romaines corages were good enough against these bar-
barous Gaules, whom they stoode in feare of before : thinck-
ing the first time they came, that they had not overcomed
them by force, but by reason of the plague that fell amongest
them, or through some other straunge chaunce. For they
dyd so feare them at that time, that they made a lawe, howe
their priestes should be exempted from warres, so it were
not against the Gaules. This overthrowe was the last mar-
shall acte Camillus dyd in the warres. For, the taking of
the cittie of Velitres, was an accident depending upon this
jorney : bicause they yelded straight unto him, without
striking any stroke. But the seditiousnes of the people of
Rome about government, and the choosing of the yere
Consuls, was the hardest matter he ever had in hande. For
370

Hf^?f<HffJfWf»WWff?!m*wnn*tn'

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

they returning home to Rome stronge, and of greate power,
by their late obteined victorie : woulde in any case have one
of the Consuls to be chosen of a commoner, which was
directly against their auncient custome. But the Senate
stowtely withstoode it, and would not suffer Camillus to be
put out of office : hoping the better by meanes of his autho-
ritie, which was greate then, that they should mainteine and
continue their auncient dignitie, and prerogative of their
nobilitie. But as Camillus was set in his chayer in the
market place, where he hearde and dispatched causes : there
came a sergeante to him, sent from the Tribunes of the
people, who commaunded him to followe him, and there
withall layed violent handes upon him, as he woulde have
caried him awaye by force. This made suche a terrible
tumulte and uprore, that the like was never seene before in
the market place. For Camillus friendes drave the sergeaunte
backe behinde the chayer. The common people cried out
againe to the sergeant from beneath : Pull him out of his
chayer. This so amazed Camillus, that he knew not well
what to saye to the matter. Notwithstanding, he would
not resigne up his office, but taking those Senatours he had
about him, he went unto the place where the Senate was
wont to be kept. And there, before he would goe into it,
he returned backe againe unto the CapitoU, and made his
prayer unto the goddes, that it would please them to bring
his troubles againe to a quiet, and so made a solemne vowe
and promise (if these tumultes and troubles might be pacified)
that he woulde builde a temple of Concorde. When this
matter came to debating before the Senate, there fell great
contention and diversitie of opinions among them : yet in
the ende, the easiest waye dyd carie it, and that was to
graunt the common peoples desire, that a commoner should
be chosen Consul with a noble man. The Dictator having
openly published to the people the Senates decree, confirm-
ing their desire: the common people were so joyfull, that
at that presente they let fall all their malice against the
Nobilitie and Senate, and brought Camillus home to his
house, with greate showtes of joye, and clapping of handes.
The next morning all the people being assembled together

371

FURIUS
CAMILLU

Sedition at
Rome about
choosing of
Consuls.

Policy to ye
to necessiti(
A commone
chosen Cons
with a nobL
man.

FURIUS
CAMILLUS

Marcus ^mi-
lius^ Lucius
Sextus Con-
suls.

Camillus died
of the plague.

GRECIANS AND ROMANES

in the market place, it was there decreed : that the temple
of Concorde should be built at the common wealthes charge
(according to the vowe Camillus had made) in such a place,
as it might be scene from the market place selfe, where all
the assemblies for matters of counsel! were made. And
further, it was ordered that one daye more should be added
to the feastes of the Latines : and that from thenceforth
they should solemnise foure festivall dayes, and should pre-
sently make generall sacrifices unto the goddes, in everie
temple of the cittie, to geve them thanckes : and in token of
joye, they should all weare garlands upon their heades for
this reconciliation. So Camillus proceeding to election,
there were chosen two Consuls, Marcus ^Emilius of the
noble Patricians, and Lucius Sextus of the Plebeians or
commoners. And this was the laste acte that ever Ca-
millus dyd. For, the next yere after, the plague was in
Rome, and tooke awaye an infinite number of people
that dyed, besides many magistrates and officers of the
cittie that departed : among whom, Camillus also left
his life. Who notwithstanding he had lived a long time,
and had ended a reasonable course of life : yet he was as
ready to dye, and as paciently tooke his death, as any man
living could have done. Moreover, the Romaines made
more mone and lamentation for his deathe alone, then
for all the rest the plague had already consumed.

THE ENDE OF FURIUS CAMILLUS LIFE

ti

372

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